After Ellen
by practicalamanda
Summary: Kurt starts working as a stylist on the popular teen drama "Dalton" just days after Ellen comes out of the closet. This story follows his relationship with Blaine Anderson, the star of the show. 90s!Klaine AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Yay! New Story. I want to let it speak for itself mostly, but I just want to clarify, that the parts in Italics are excerpts from the book that Kurt is writing. Everything else in the story is flashback. It shouldn't be too hard to figure out.**

**Endless thanks to my beta, ****julesmonster. I'm really enjoying re-living the 90s with you!**

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda**

"Congratulations Mr. Hummel-Anderson," Blaine said clinking his champaign flute against Kurt in a toast to their wedding night. After a beautiful ceremony and a lavish party planned by Kurt himself, the two had stumbled giddy and giggling to their honeymoon suite to spend their first night as married men. If the whistles and cat calls were anything to go by, their friends were expecting them to immediately tear each other's clothes off and go at it like they were teenagers who's parents would only be out for an hour, but that wasn't them. Just like their relationship, they preferred to be calm and loving, romantic with a slow build, so instead they were perched on the ledge of the jacuzzi style bathtub, soaking their feet in the warm water and sharing champaign and soft kisses. There would be sex, lots of sex, but that could come later.

"Same to you, Mr. Hummel-Anderson," Kurt responded, smiling a bright, wide smile with teeth that he generally reserved for Blaine only. They attempted the cliched champaign drinking move where their arms twisted together to once again reach their own mouths, but the bulk of their tuxedos combined with the fact that they were both already a bit tipsy caused them to become a tangled knot of limbs that ultimately culminated in a long kiss, flutes forgotten on the floor. "That has a nice ring to it, Hummel-Anderson," Kurt mused, pressing their foreheads together and taking a moment to breathe in his new husband.

"Mhm...it does. It definitely does."

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_I'm getting ahead of myself, though. This isn't where this particular story begins; it's where it ends. I'm not too fussed about spoiling the ending, though. You all know what happens anyway. You're reading this book to find out how we got here. And, I bet you can tell by how many pages there are that it wasn't easy, but I figured I'd open with the happy ending, lessen your anxiety as a reader a little bit. There is one thing this ending has in common with the beginning, however. They both happened on ordinary days that were made extraordinary. _

"...That was one of the things when I decided to have my character on the show come out," Kurt read aloud from that morning's issue of Time magazine. The Hummel-Adams apartment had never been all that news obsessed, but today was different. April 14, 1997, the day after Ellen Degeneres changed television forever. "I knew I was going to have to come out too. But I didn't want to talk about it until the show was done. And you know, I watched my friend Melissa [Etheridge] come out, and..."

"Damn, Kurt. You picked some day to start a career in the television industry," Wade interrupted. Ordinarily Kurt would have snapped at him, but there was really no point in reading any further. The most important part of the article was right at the start. Wade slid a mug of coffee towards his room mate and sat down across the table from him. "Those fat cats in their fancy studios are going to have to learn what people in our line of work figured out a long time ago."

"And what's that?" Kurt asked, lifting one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"That us queens are going to rule the world one day," Wade said, lifting his mug up to Kurt's for a clink.

Kurt had to admit: it was pretty exciting. Kurt was a stylist, and if for no other reason that they would probably go bankrupt without them, the fashion industry was miles ahead of most in terms of accepting gays. He wasn't about to bring a date to the company Christmas party, but he was generally accepted, and his extra-fabulous style had never been an impediment to his employment.

He had actually been extremely nervous about starting his first day at a new job. After years of working as an underling for _Vogue's_ head stylist, Kurt had finally landed a job with a little bit of power of his own. He was going to be the new Chief of Wardrobe for the popular teen drama, _Dalton_. He was excited to be in charge for once, but he was not so excited to leave the relative safety of _Vogue's_ accepting offices. Plain and simple: neon holdover fashion from the early nineties might get you harassed or even fired, but liking cock wouldn't.. Kurt wasn't sure if the recent news story was making him more or less nervous, but either way, he knew that as first days go, this was bound to be interesting.

_I mean, gays on TV weren't _unheard of_, per say, but to have a character that was out, proud, and not having the shit kicked out of him or her, was big news. Don't get me wrong, I was a big Ricky fan (and no matter what anyone says, I did not just watch _My So Called Life_ to ogle Jordan Catalano. That was just a fortunate perk), and I think it was good, important even, to show the horrors of gay bashing on a teen drama like that, but seeing a happy, well adjusted Lesbian on the small screen; that was something else entirely. _

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"Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel. I'm the new Chief of Wardrobe. I think I'm supposed to be meeting with..." Kurt squinted down at the piece of scrap paper in his hand, "...Susan Wall?"

"Yes, she told me to expect you," the woman at reception stood up abruptly at took Kurt's coat. "She's in a meeting right now, but she told me to send you right to room thirteen for a fitting with one of the main cast. Your predecessor finished all of the clothing until episode four. You need to finish the tailoring for that episode and start on the next one," the woman said, thrusting a map of the building into his hand and sitting back down behind her desk.

Kurt rolled his eyes at the woman's brusqueness, but he was glad that her particularly heinously painted nails, that she was now vigorously filing, distracted him somewhat from the job he was about to start. He knew when he had signed the contract that he was coming in during the middle of the season. Things were bound to be hectic, but he wasn't expecting to be thrown into things without so much as a 'hello how are you'. It didn't phase him much, though. He was used to fast paced world of fashion. That was, it didn't phase him until he turned the door knob into number thirteen and saw who was standing there waiting to be fitted.

"My morning coffee would be much appreciated, Pamela. You know just how I like it," the girl, Pamela Kurt assumed, turned an impressive shade of scarlet when the request was followed by an impressively disarming wink. Even Kurt, who found the overly obvious flirtation a little nauseating, wasn't immune to Blaine Anderson's charm. "You're the best!" he added as the girl was scurrying off to do her job.

Blaine Anderson; America's most dapper teenage heartthrob—well, he wasn't a teenager. He was probably around Kurt's age, but he was still playing a high schooler, so his fan base reflected as much. He was the star of _Dalton_, the lead of the fictional high school's be-blazered A Capella choir, and objectively, one of the most gorgeous men in America. Kurt knew that he would be up close and personal with the star at some point. He had no idea it would be this soon.

"You must be Ellen's replacement," Blaine said, noticing Kurt for the first time. He had dropped the exaggerated flirtation, but a playfulness remained in his demeanor. Kurt doubted he ever totally lost it. "Susan told me you would be here."

"That's me," Kurt said, wasting no time getting his sewing equipment out. Blaine was already wearing his wardrobe, and Kurt's appraising eye was already making mental adjustments. "I'm Kurt. If you would just step up onto this platform, we can get started." Kurt didn't know how to talk to celebrities, but being professional—_that _was something he knew how to do.

"Right down to business then," Blaine said with a chuckle as he hopped up onto the step stool.

Kurt nodded and got right to work pinning and marking where the garments needed to be fixed. He was determined to make a good impression. He only looked up when he could feel Blaine's eyes on him, and almost before Kurt could catch him, the other man was averting his gaze abruptly. It was a little odd, but Kurt didn't think much of it. He was used to standing out and being stared at, but when Kurt looked up a second time, he caught Blaine staring again. This time, he didn't look away fast enough, "what?" Kurt asked.

Blaine, seemingly shaken out of his reverie, blinked rapidly and started picking at a thread on his t-shirt, "oh...um nothing," Blaine said, dropping his polished air for only a moment before re-becomming the guy that Kurt was used to seeing on his television screen. "Just watching the master at work," he added, cheekily.

Kurt gave him a odd look, but accepted it and kept working. He was no expert on the matter, but if he didn't know any better, he'd say that Blaine was checking him out. It was only the odd glance, but the way his gaze lingered on his ass, and the fact that he kept wetting his lips, made Kurt almost certain that something unexpected was going on. He shrugged it off, though. He would just file it away of overly dissect with Wade later. "You're all set," Kurt said, once again seeming to startle Blaine out of his thoughts.

"Alright then, Kurt," Blaine said, gathering his things. "Thanks a lot. I'll be seeing you," and with one last wave, Kurt's first encounter with Blaine Anderson was officially over.

_That was the first time Blaine and I ever met, and no matter how many times we go over the events of that day, he insists that I was imagining things. I _swear_ he was the worst closet case the world has ever seen. He swears that he wasn't staring at my butt. I guess the world will never know._

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"Have you ever thought about how many public figures are in the closet?" Kurt mused later that evening. He was sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal for dinner and watching as Wade slowly transformed into Unique for that night's gig. Kurt had met Wade for the first time when he was in his drag persona, and it had taken a while for Kurt to get used to his less fabulous counterpart, but by now, it was second nature.

"Of course I do," he said, smacking his lips together to spread out the lipstick. "What do you think I'm doing when I watch C-Span. You know at least a quarter of those morons in congress are hiring rent boys instead of hookers."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "not those kinds of public figures," he said, taking a particularly large spoonful of cereal, "I mean like actors and stuff."

"Is this your way of telling me you had a particularly lucky bathroom break on your first day of work today?" Wade asked. "Because I'm not about to play guess who right now. You better spill."

Kurt let out an over dramatic sigh, "no, of course not. Don't be ridiculous," Kurt replied. "You've been watching way too much _Sunset Beach_. I was just thinking is all."

Wade gave Kurt an unconvinced look, "alright, I know when you're not ready to spill," he said, tugging his wig on to complete the transformation. "You just let Auntie Unique know when you're ready to say whose basket you've been getting into."

Before Kurt could come up with a sassy retort, he was out the door, "drag queens!" Kurt sighed under his breath. Try as he might, though, Kurt couldn't get Blaine Anderson's stare out of his head. He had to have been imagining things. There was just no way that Blaine was gay. He had half of the women in America fawning over him. No, Kurt was just being stupid. He needed to forget everything that happened today. He needed to concentrate on his job, and most of all he needed to stay far way from thoughts of Blaine Anderson.


	2. Chapter 2

**I got help from two cool sources this week. For one, the coffee shop where I typed most of this chapter was playing an awesome mix of 90s music. It was most inspiring. Two, I was able to visit the FIT museum to see their "Ivy Style" exhibit. It's right by my work, so I stopped in during my lunch hour. It was great! It was like being in Blaine Anderson's closet. You can be sure that I'll be looking back on that experience throughout the entire story.**

**Endless thanks to my beta, ****julesmonster. I'm really enjoying re-living the 90s with you!**

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda**

_Not thinking about Blaine turned out to be, predictably, way harder than I originally thought it would be. It seemed like, not only was he the star of the show, but he was the star of the work place as well. My direct employees in particular, liked to gossip and giggle over the heartthrob that was _Blaine Anderson.

"_..._and then, he _winked _at me!" Pamela said, recounting the previous day's encounter for what had to be the sixth time in an hour. Never the less, the rest of the girls squealed and gasped the same way they had the first time.

"Okay, Pamela," Kurt said, finally putting a stop to it. "As lovely as your story telling prowess is, we really need to get back to work and don't you, you know...have a job to do that doesn't involve distracting my seamstresses?" he added saltily. Kurt was usually much more tolerant of girly gossiping, but for some reason the way they were talking about Blaine was really grating on him.

Pamela, looking satisfactorily cowed, scurried out the door with her clip board in hand, "why so sour, boss?" Tina, the head of tailoring, asked. She was a sweet girl and Kurt could see them becoming friends, "are you saying you don't think Blaine is you know...cute?"

Ah, there is was. Kurt was wondering when his new co-workers would finally go fishing for a definitive answer about his sexuality. He always wondered what it was _precisely_ that gave him away. Perhaps his profession was red flag enough, or maybe it was his voice, or the way he dressed. He peaked down at his clothes. He was wearing a fairly standard three piece suit, his jacket that been long forgotten as he worked, though, and he was just wearing the vest with the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up. It was impeccably tailored, of course, but he was a designer—anything else would just be embarrassing. He sighed, and once again decided that this line of thinking wasn't going anywhere.

He might as well get it over with now, "yes, of course he's cute. I'm not blind. I just think that it's silly for the four of your to wax poetic for ages over every interaction. He probably has some famous super model girlfriend," Kurt said dismissively. "And besides, he winks at everyone. I'm beginning to think he has a twitch."

"I do not have a twitch!" Kurt heard from the door of the sewing room, and low and behold, standing there was the man himself.

"Oh my god! I'm...I'm so sorry Mr. Anderson. I...um...I didn't know you'd be standing right there," Kurt panicked, trying to cover up. His face turned a brilliant shade of red. It was only his second day, and already he was unintentionally insulting people. He should really learn to keep his big mouth shut. "How...how long we you standing there actually," Kurt said suddenly remembering that he had admitted to thinking Blaine was cute.

"Just long enough to know that you think I have a birth defect," Blaine said teasingly. "Please don't worry about it. I'm not insulted, and please call me Blaine. I insist."

"Um...okay, Blaine," Kurt said, feeling relieved enough to try the name out on his tongue. "Did you need something?" he said, finally calming down enough to realize that there was probably a reason that Blaine was standing in the doorway of the wardrobe room.

"I didn't think I needed a reason to visit my favorite department," Blaine said, grinning cheekily at Sugar who blushed and buried her nose back in the dress she was hemming. "But I did stop by to pick up my wardrobe for today."

Kurt barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "of course. Just try them on behind that curtain over there so I can make sure the alterations are correct."

The wardrobe for the show was already proving itself to be interesting. Kurt had a few friends who had worked in television in the past and typically teen dramas were a hot bed of the latest fashions. Kurt remembers taking cues from Beverly Hills 90210 in his own later high school years. _Dalton,_ however, was totally different. Set in the hollowed halls of an Ohio prep school, the wardrobe consisted of the finest ivy style, and most notably, the now extremely recognizable Dalton uniform.

"Oh my god I love this song! I've been trying to get them to do it on the show!" Blaine called from behind the privacy curtain, snapping Kurt out of his thoughts and reminding him that the radio was playing in the background, just in time for him to hear Blaine start enthusiastically singing along, _"when you're feeling sad and low, we can take you where you wanna go. Smiling, dancing, everything is free. All you need is positivity!_ It sucks they won't let me do girl songs," Blaine added with an over dramatic sigh.

Kurt, who was still reeling from the the events of the last five minutes, couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only were he and his three employees getting a private concert, but Blaine Anderson was singing the _Spice Girls_. "I think you should be able to sing whatever song you want," Kurt said quietly as he sketched a new outfit for Blaine's TV mom.

"I knew there was a reason you were my favorite department," Blaine said, stepping out from behind the curtain in his latest outside of school outfit and winking at Kurt. "Sorry. It was just my twitch."

_As a point of interest, Blaine later admitted to me that he heard me saying that I thought he was cute. I was not any less embarrassed in retrospect._

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"That boy is razor fine," Wade commented. The two of them were in their living room watching the first episode of _Dalton _that Kurt had worked on. "What's it like doing his inseams?"

Kurt swiftly hit his room mate over the head with a throw pillow, "don't be ridiculous! I'm a professional."

"Who hit your buzzer, Hummel? I haven't seen you this uptight since the last time you ran out of AAA batteries," he replied, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"I'm not uptight," he said sharply, only loosening his grip on the armrest when Wade gave him an extremely disbelieving look. "I'm...I'm just tired of everyone talking about Blaine Anderson. It's all my employees every talk about, and then I come home and your totally crazy over him too. I'm just...it's annoying is all. He's just a guy."

Wade put his hands up in surrender, "alright, alright, I won't mention it again," Wade said, going back to the TV. "I'm just saying that if he were gay I'd tell you to get on that."

"Well, he's not," Kurt said, folding his arm. "The man flirts with anything that has boobs."

_And that was exactly it. I didn't know it at the time, of course, but Blaine was very deliberate in his crusade to flirt with every woman that crossed his path. He was paranoid. He knew he was gay, and he knew that nothing would change the fact that he'd much rather be sending his winks to the cute camera man, or the muscled extra that was on set that week, or the brand new chief of wardrobe. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, hello there amazingly wonderful readers! I hope you all had a fantastic weekend, as usual. I personally spent the entire time working, but hey...I have wine now so it's all okay. This and the next chapter are probably some of my favorites that I've written for a fic, ever, so I really hope you all enjoy!**

**The song in this chapter is _I'm Not Sick, but I'm Not Well. _I apologize in advance for the fact that it will be stuck in the heads of anyone over the age of 20 that's now going to read this chapter.**

**Endless thanks to my beta, ****julesmonster. I'm really enjoying re-living the 90s with you!**

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda**

_Being on hand for quick fixes during filming turned out to be my favorite and least favorite part of the job all wrapped up into one. I thrived on the rush of thinking on my feet in a pinch. It was one of the reasons that I wanted to leave my job at _Vogue_ in the first place, and working on set was the perfect way to fulfill that urge. All of the dancing and raucous party scenes, combined with the rowdy nature of the almost entirely male cast meant that my presence was very necessary on an almost minute by minute basis. _

_The not so good part, had to do with the increasingly large amounts of time I had to spend with Blaine. Don't get me wrong, Blaine was always polite and kind to me, but something about him and the way he carried himself just made my blood boil. In retrospect I recognize that feeling for what it really was. I had a crush, and maybe it was in the most middle school sense of the word, but it was there, and it was real. I was jealous, jealous of all the attention he would lavish upon the females in the room. And so, like a thirteen year old boy, I got Blaine's attention in the only way I knew how. _

"Blaine could you keep it in your pants _at least_ long enough for me to make the damn things fit properly," Kurt snapped from his crouched position. He was fixing a hem between takes, and Blaine was relentlessly flirting with one of the extras from the Dalton sister school. Blaine gave him an affronted look, but didn't say anything. That was the problem with Blaine. No matter how much Kurt dished out, he would never give it back. It only make Kurt more frustrated and snippy. "And you could maybe watch those fancy couch jumping maneuvers you love to do. This is the third time today I've had to mend your outfit."

"Oh, um...sorry," Blaine said sheepishly. And there he was doing it again, completely bending to whatever Kurt said. "I'll try to be more careful in the future," he added with a small smile as he headed back onto the set."

"Well you're strict," Tina said from behind Kurt. She wasn't needed on set, but she was fitting a few extras that didn't have their own dressing room, and she wanted to see if Kurt needed anything.

"I'm not strict. I just don't think he should be treated any differently just because he's _Blaine Anderson_," Kurt said, packing away the small notions kit he had just been using. "Someone has to tell it like it is."

Tina raised an eyebrow, "I don't know, he's always been nice to me," Tina mused. "There are a few wise guys on set, but Blaine's never struck me as someone who needs to be 'put in his place.'"

Kurt snorted, "yeah, okay," Kurt said, folding his arms and giving Tina a disbelieving look, "you don't think that might have something to do with the wonderful extra curricular trailer activities he may be hoping to have with you?" Kurt asked, putting finger quotes around extra-curricular.

Tina shrugged, "honestly, what he does in his trailer is his business, but I will say that I've worked here since the show started and I've never seen Blaine take anyone into his trailer," Tina said. "I mean he's a flirt, but as far as I know, he never really acts on it," she added. "Alright, Kurt, I better get back to work. I'll talk to you later."

Kurt was almost too shocked to respond. He gave Tina a wave and took another look at Blaine, who was going over some choreography with Wes and David, two of the other lead Warblers. Now that he really thought about it, in the few weeks that he had been working here, he'd never actually seen any evidence of Blaine do any of the torrid things he accused him of in his head.

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"_I'm not sick, but I'm not well, and I'm so hot cause I'm in hell. I'm not sick, but I'm not well, and it's a sin to live so well!" _Blaine's ringing tenor belted out the final chorus as the rest of the Warblers danced and jumped around them.

If Kurt was being honest, and frankly, he almost always was, he would say that the scene was completely ludicrous. The premise was that the Dalton boys invited girls from their sister school, Crawford Country Day, to watch them perform, under the guise of judging whether or not they were 'sexy' enough to compete at regionals. They were filming in some random warehouse. Bubble cannons were involved.

"That last take was perfect guys," the director called out. "That's a rap for today."

"Call us," Kurt heard a few of the Crawford girls say to Blaine, and when he looked up he saw them slipping him several pieces of paper.

"Sweet," Blaine said, taking the papers, and saying goodbye to the girls with a wave. The rest of the set was busy packing up in an effort to get home as quickly as possible, but Kurt was transfixed as he watched Blaine surreptitiously drop the phone numbers into the waste paper basket. "I...um...I don't like to date extras on the set...it um...it makes things too complicated."

Kurt jumped when he realized that Blaine was talking to him, and that he'd been caught staring. It only took him a moment, though to realize that he wasn't the only one who felt caught. "You don't have to explain yourself to me," Kurt said as coolly as possible. "I just assumed that your Rolodex was full to capacity," he replied.

"Not exactly," he mumbled, almost to himself. "So, what did you think?" Blaine said, quickly returning to his normal self, and gesturing behind him to where he had previously been performing.

"Can I be really honest, because it comes from a place of caring about the show?" Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded slowly, "you're a star, Blaine. There's no doubt about that. Your solos are breathtaking," Kurt could practically hear Blaine preening, "they're also predictable," he added and then he saw his face fall. "I know that's sort of the point of the show, but honestly, I can tell exactly what the Warblers are going to sing based on what song I'm most sick of hearing on the radio," Kurt went to pick up his equipment to go. "But, what do I know? I'm just here for the clothes," he added breezily. "I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine."

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Thirty two: that was the number of times that Blaine had read the article in _Time_ magazine about Ellen coming out of the closet. He was on read number thirty three when he heard his room mate, Wes walk through the door of their apartment, "do you think I'm boring?"

"Hello to you, too," Wes said, hanging up his jacket and making his way over the the fridge for a soda. "And as much as you know I would support you if you wanted to pull an Ellen, I'm not sure that's the the kind of interest you're trying to generate just now," Wes added, gesturing to the magazine. Wes was one of the very few non-family members that knew Blaine's secret.

"What? Oh," Blaine said, when he saw where Wes was pointing. "No, not that. I was just thinking. Do you think I'm too sheltered...as an artist?"

"I'm not sure I know how to successfully answer that question, Blaine," Wes said. "I think you're a great performer, but you're sort of fulfilling a fairly niche genre right now. I don't know if all of those fourteen year old girls would be especially pleased if you started singing Nirvana and wearing guyliner."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "No, I mean...like...singing used to be this amazing escape for me. It used to make me feel _alive_, but if I have to sing another chart topping single from the next boy band to emerge from nowhere, I might throw up," he said, dramatically waving his arms around. "I mean Kurt was just saying how..."

"Ah, I see now," Wes said with a laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaine said, folding his arms.

"It means that I can switch gears. I'm not talking you down from an existential crisis anymore, I just have to listen to you pining over a cute boy," Wes said, putting up a hand to keep Blaine from protesting. "I'm straight, Blaine, not blind."

Blaine sighed, "okay, you're right. He's gorgeous," Blaine admitted, "but that doesn't make his point any less valid. We're stuck in a rut on that show, and I need to get us out of it if I'm going to continue to be a Warbler. This show is amazing, and I love all of you guys, but I need to grow as an artist, or I'm going to go crazy."

Wes gave Blaine a long look. They had known each other practically since they were both in diapers, and Wes knew when Blaine's mind was completely made up, "you're really serious about this?"

"Extremely serious," Blaine replied.

"Okay, then I'm going to help you," Wes said. "We have a few days off from filming. I don't want you to shave for that entire time, and Saturday night we're going out incognito. We're going to see a performance like you've never seen before."

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Kurt spent the next few days wavering between beating himself up over being so candid with Blaine Anderson, and over analyzing the way Blaine had reacted to being caught throwing out phone numbers.

"Which one of these says Aretha to you?" Wade asked, breaking Kurt out of his thoughts by waving two almost identical shades of red nail polish in his face. "At first I thought 'Russian Red' for sure but now I might be leaning towards 'Chirelle,'" he mused, sitting down on the couch next to Kurt.

Kurt laughed, "Wade, honey, I'm a fashion designer, and even _I _can't tell the difference between those two colors," he said.

"I know! I'm being ridiculous," Wade exclaimed, "I'm just so nervous. This is the first time I'm doing Aretha in during the 10:00 PM slot. This could be huge for me!"

"Hey, what happened to 'drag queens don't get nervous'?" Kurt asked, quoting Wade from a few months ago.

"Well, I lied!" he said, sighing dramatically and laying his head in Kurt's lap, "this drag queen is definitely nervous."

Kurt chuckled lightly, "I'm sure once you get on the lashes, and the heels, and that fabulous red gown I made for you, you'll feel much better," Kurt said, giving Wade a pat on the head. "And I'll be there you cheer you on! That never happens!" Kurt joked.

"Damn straight it never happens," Wade said, sitting up and poking Kurt in the ribs. "You never leave the house. No wonder it's been ages since you've gotten any," he added.

"I leave the house all the time!" Kurt defended.

"And yet, I hear no protest for my second comment."

"I work ten hour days at the studio, and then on the weekends I have to do all of my freelance designing. You know I work crazy hours," Kurt defended. "I can get laid once I'm rich and famous," he added.

"Yeah, yeah," Wade replied. "Do yourself, and everyone around you a a favor and wear your tightest pants on Saturday. I want everyone in the club to be jealous of that booty."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but was ultimately grateful for his best friend's encouragement, "yes, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

**Here it is: next part! I'm so glad to head that you guys are enjoying, and I hope it continues. Things are obviously starting to heat up, so enjoy the ride!**

**I did something that I was very much trying to avoid in this chapter, I fudged history. It's a very small thing, but in reality RuPaul wasn't on **_**Sabrina the Teenage Witch**_** until about nine months after when this story is set. Again, not a bit deal, but I thought I'd mention it!**

**Endless thanks to my beta, ****julesmonster. I'm really enjoying re-living the 90s with you!**

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda**

"So, how do I look?" Blaine said resignedly, waving his hand down his body to call attention to his outfit.

Wes raised both of his eyebrows, "Hmmm...like a homeless person that had a particularly lucky day rummaging through the dumpsters behind _Brooks Brothers_."

Blaine huffed, folding his arms over his chest, "well, you refused to tell me where we're going. How was I supposed to know what's appropriate?"

Wes chuckled, "I guess you're right," he conceded. "Just...lose the jacket and the tie and you should be fine."

Blaine complied, leaving him in a fitted button down and khakis, "now will you tell me where we're going? This is getting ridiculous."

"As if," Wes said, tugging on his jacket, and pocketing his wallet and his keys. "If for no other reason, than my extreme excitement over seeing your face when we pull up to the club."

"So it's a club then?" Blaine said, grasping at the small amount of information that Wes had let slip.

"Yes, it's a club," Wes said, rolling his eyes, and allowing Blaine to walk out the door before him. "That's not really the part that I'm hoping to surprise you with. And by the way, when you have your immediate snap reaction of anger, remember that I'm _voluntarily_ accompanying you to a place like this. One day you will thank me, and totally owe me one."

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to really disagree with that assessment of the situation," Blaine said, hopping into the cab that Wes had hailed.

"Just wait and see, Blainers. Just wait and see."

_It's actually a huge testament to Blaine and Wes's relationship that Blaine followed him to that club without knowing where he was going. For as long as I've known him, Blaine's had trust issues. It probably came from keeping such an intense secret for so many years, but he's not typically one to open up and allow someone else to take the lead. But, they were brothers. People used to ask why Blaine bothered having a room mate, when he could clearly afford to live on his own. He would always brush off the question, insisting that 'he's not anyone special', but I think Wes always knew the truth. There were so few people in Blaine's life who he could be completely honest with, and he wanted...no, needed to keep them close. Little did Blaine know, that following Wes to that club that night would lead him to increasing that number of people by one, at least in the long run._

_Now, I wasn't a club rat, not even close, but I did enjoy the occasional night out on the town. When my busy schedule allowed it, I would dress to the nines in my best club wear, pre-game in the apartment with Wade (on the nights when Unique wasn't performing), and head out for a night of dancing. I rarely remember any details from those nights. In a way, that was the best part, that they became a fuzzy blur of gyrating bodies and too much tequila. That night, however, I remember with a startling clarity that I've rarely been able to match in my lifetime. The day I came out to my dad and realized that he would accept me no matter what, my wedding, the first time I held our son: those are the only events that rival that night in how starkly they stand out in my memory. _

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"How do I look," Kurt said, spinning in front of Wade who was in the process of applying his drag makeup. "These are new pants," he added, wiggling his butt.

"Delectable, as usual," Wade said, as he smacked his lip together to spread his lipstick evenly. "You better not get too drunk before my performance. I need you to provide a proper critique. After I'm finished you can get as shit faced as you want," Wade added, giving himself a final once over before packing up his garment bag to bring to the performance. "Do you want to share a cab with me? Unique doesn't take the subway."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but agreed, "I guess I'm a big time TV designer now. I can afford the occasional taxi. Are you ready to leave now?" Kurt asked.

"As I'll ever be," Wade replied, although Kurt wasn't sure where Wade ended and Unique began, or which one he/she technically was now.

_It's interesting to talk about Unique in passing at this point, given the fact that apart from maybe RuPaul and Lady Bunny, she's as close to a household name as a drag queen ever becomes. As far as queens go, Unique is fairly iconic. That's another story for another book (one that I've been on her case to write for ages now!), but for now I think it's important to note that the kind of gigs she was getting at this point in her career were fairly C-list at best. She was playing talent nights at gay bars and dance clubs. _

Rush_, the bar that she was doing Aretha at that night, was about at high profile as she ever got, and she had to compete with the real appeal of places like that, the opportunity for guys to hook up. I'm not saying that it was a necessity, but when I got into that cab that evening, I was fully expecting to wake up in a stranger's bed. I was _not _expecting to meet my husband that night. And yes, the word 'meet' here is very intentional. Up until that point I had met _Blaine Anderson: Teen Heartthrob_. I met Blaine right by the bar at _Rush.

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"Are you fucking insane?" Blaine shouted, yanking Wes by the wrist out onto the alley behind the club, "you brought me to a drag show, at a _gay dance club_? Are you _trying_ to out me?" Blaine asked. He was positively fuming.

"Are _you_ fucking insane?" Wes asked as a counter. "Look at yourself right now. You couldn't win a Blaine Anderson look alike contest with that dead animal on your chin."

"That's not the point, Wes. The paparazzi are literally everywhere. Their eyes have eyes, and do you have any idea what a story like this would be worth to them? Blaine said, his anger was slowly ebbing away to be replaced with sheer panic.

"I think _you're_ the one missing the point here, Blaine," Wes said, trying to calm him down. "You told me you wanted to see something new, something like you've never seen before. This is that thing! I've heard that the performances here are amazing, and times are changing. For christ sake, RuPaul was on Sabrina the Teenage Witch the other week. It's practically mainstream. But, I swear to you, no one is going to recognize you. _I _barely recognize you, and not a single person here would think for a second that Blaine Anderson would be at a club like this looking like a lost member of Pearl Jam."

"Only one of them has a beard," Blaine mumbled, still looking down at his hands.

Wes sighed, "Blaine, you want the truth?" he began, "I know you verbalized it as a being bored as an artist, but I can tell you're unhappy. Hiding who you are is taking a toll on you. I know you're not ready to come out, but I thought I could give you one night, just _one night_ to be yourself. I know it's a bit of a risk, but it's going to make you feel better, it's one I think is worth taking," Blaine was still staring down at his hands, "look, if you want to leave, we can leave. I'm sorry I took you here in the first place," Wes said, turning around to make his way out of the alley.

"Wait!" Blaine called out suddenly, surprising himself more than he surprised Wes. "I...I think I'd like to stay," Blaine said tentatively. "I mean...see the show and all..."

Wes's face broke into a huge grin, "I knew you'd see things my way."

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"Can I buy you a drink?" Blaine heard a voice from behind him. Suddenly he felt a body pressed up behind him, bigger than him and too close, and smelling of alcohol, cologne, and sweat. "A guy like you looks like you could use a little loosening up."

"I...um...," Blaine fumbled for the right words. He had been single-mindedly working towards a career as a television star since the age of sixteen. He hadn't had time for sexual exploration, and he certainly hadn't had time to learn how to act in a dance club. "I already have a drink," he said breathing a sigh of relief when the man made his way around him so that he was next to Blaine at the bar instead of behind him.

Blaine was finally able to get a good look at him. He was attractive for sure, but he was smarmy in a way that, if Blaine was honest, reminded him a of a trait of his own that he'd like to lose. He was taller than Blaine by a long shot, and he had lean face topped with a swoop of brown hair, "nothing wrong with having one on deck," the man said, gesturing to get the bartender's attention. "And someone as cute as you would get snatched up in an instant. I have to get in before it's too late."

Blaine blushed and shoved his thick, horn-rimmed glasses up onto his nose. As uncomfortable as this guy was making him, it was nice to be hit on by someone that didn't have any boobs for once. It was amazing how his natural flirtatiousness just vanished when faced with someone that he might actually want to get with, "I uh...it's just...it's really nice of you to offer, but..."

"Sebastian, haven't you leered on enough men at this point to know when someone isn't interested? I know you've made it your life's mission to prey on anyone who looks shy or bookish, but someday, someone's going to scream rape and it might be me," the voice, that must have belonged to an acquaintance of the man, Sebastian his name was, got louder as the person got closer to the bar.

Once the voice was close enough to hear with any sort of clarity over the music, Blaine almost instantly froze. He knew that voice. He had almost jerked off to that voice in the shower two days before, until he started feeling guilty, and went back to fantasizing about Freddie Prinze Junior eating a Popsicle without a shirt on.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hummel," Sebastian said, taking a sip from the martini that the bar tender had just made him. "I just hadn't seen him around before, and I wanted to be the first to welcome him to the city's finest homosexual establishment."

"Yeah, okay, then what's his name," Kurt said, finally turning his attention to Blaine. He thought he saw a small flicker of recognition in his eyes, but Blaine was pretty sure that Wes was right. His disguise was pretty fool proof.

_It might have been the world's worst disguise. I recognized him immediately._

Blaine took a moment to appreciate what Kurt was wearing. He figured it was okay to stare a little bit. No one knew who he was, and Kurt had obviously picked the outfit to get attention.

"I might have gotten a chance to get his name if you hadn't come barging over, Grandpa Gay," Sebastian said, staring daggers at Kurt.

"Yeah, okay, you let me know when you're ready to admit that you're just a regulation sleaze," Kurt said, acidly. Blaine was starting to appreciate what Kurt's sarcasm and biting whit could accomplish when it wasn't directed at him.

"Whatever, I'm bored," Sebastian said, grabbing his drink and making to walk away, "if you decide you want to get away from this serious case of gay face at any point, I'll be on the dance floor," Sebastian said to Blaine before strutting away.

"Ass hole," Kurt said under his breath. "Not all of us are like that, okay. I don't want your first experience at a gay club to be sullied by someone who thinks poppers are an acceptable substitute for a bouquet."

"Hey, what makes you think this it my fist time?" Blaine asked. Kurt was right, of course, but Blaine couldn't help but feel slightly indignant at being called out on it.

Kurt turned to him and raised one of his eyebrows in disbelief, "why don't you come to the diner with me down the street. We can get some coffee and I'll explain it to you where we can have some peace and quiet."

"I'm not sure that's such a good..."

"Take me up on my offer, Blaine. Before someone _else_ recognizes you."

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Blaine took a tiny sip from his tea. He was feeling jittery enough. There was no need to add coffee to the mix. "So...um...I guess you have a lot of questions," he said quietly, refusing to look Kurt in the eye. After being called out at the club, Blaine practically saw his career flash before his eyes, but after some gentle assurance from Kurt that he wasn't about to tell anyone, he was convinced to leave the club behind, and follow him to the previously mentioned diner. He was going to tell Wes he was leaving, but before he could say anything this room mate sent him off with an over exaggerated wink.

Kurt exhaled quietly, "not as many as you might think." He had never seen Blaine look more like a little boy. He looked nothing like the star that graced his TV screen every week, or the man that flounced around set like he owned the place. Being in the club alone wouldn't have been enough to convince Kurt that Blaine was probably gay. Straight people going to see drag balls wasn't unheard of, it was practically trendy, but the way Blaine had reacted to being recognized, combined with the way he was behaving now, was a definite hint in that direction. "You don't owe me an explanation, Blaine. You don't know me, and I certainly don't know you. We can pretend this never happened, and on Monday you can go back to being the lady's man I already thought you were. I'm not going to tell anybody. Why you were in that club, is none of my business."

"I took the easy way out, you know?" Blaine said suddenly, looking Kurt in the eye for the first time. Kurt just stayed silent, waiting for Blaine to continue. "You walk around with your stupid _honesty_ and those stupid _pants _like it's the easiest thing in the world, but do you know what would happen if...do you know what they would do to me if..." Blaine let out a shaky breath, fisting tufts of his unruly curls and squeezing his eyes shut.

"It's going to be..."

"Okay, I know. I've heard it a million times," Blaine scoffed, cutting Kurt off. "My room mate tells me practically once a week. 'It will be okay, Blaine. One day it won't matter,'" Blaine mimicked. "I want to know when!" Blaine said, losing the slightly angry bite to his words. He seemed resigned.

"Being you seems pretty difficult, for someone who claims to have taken the easy way out," Kurt said quietly, as if talking to loud would break the spell that was causing Blaine to open up to him.

"No, I chose the easy way out when I was sixteen and starting out in the business, and now, at 22, I'm paying the price," Blaine said, taking a sip of his tea. It was almost ice cold at this point.

"It doesn't have to be that way, Blaine," Kurt said, reaching his hand out to squeeze Blaine's, before thinking better of it and pulling back. "Things are changing. The world isn't what it was when we were teenagers. Hell, the TV world isn't what it was two months ago. My room mate always jokes that's we're now living in one AE 'after Ellen'," Kurt said with a slight chuckle. "I mean, who knows. In ten years, maybe the story will be about a handsome prep schooler meeting the _man_ of his dreams on a staircase, instead the hot girl from the sister school. It's not just fiction anymore. This is actually happening all around us!"

Blaine actively had to fight back the excitement of Kurt implying that he was handsome, "you don't understand," Blaine said. "Anyone could have seen me tonight. I'm going to have to do some serious damage...,"

"You're right," Kurt said firmly, and Blaine snapped his mouth shut in surprise at his tone. "I _don't _get it. I was born with this high voice, and these stupid pear hips, and apparently a tattoo on my forehead proclaiming that I'm gay. I didn't get a choice Blaine. You can pass: congratulations. That doesn't make either of us the 'winner' here."

Blaine wanted to insists loudly that there was absolutely nothing wrong with Kurt's hips. Instead what came out was, "I never said I was gay."

Kurt gaped back at him, "Blaine...I...you were just at a gay bar."

"I was dragged there by a friend who decided it would be a good way to expand our understanding as artists. We were there to see the show."

Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt like he was in an episode of _the Twilight Zone._ "Blaine you can't seriously expect me to believe that..."

"I'm sorry about the misunderstanding. I shouldn't have come here with you. It was a mistake," and with that, he dumped a few bills on the table and began his hasty retreat, mumbling something that sounded a lot like 'I have to call my publicist'.

Kurt...well Kurt didn't know what to think. And he certainly wasn't as surprised as everyone else when a bold headline graced the covers of every gossip magazine on the news stand the next morning: _Heartthrob Blaine Anderson: Confirmed to be Dating Young Starlet, Rachel Berry. _

**Ahhhhhh...please don't hate me!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry that this took forever to get out. I haven't actually had a full dya off in about a week and a half, so I'm running on empty, and haven't had any time to write. I'm hoping that this will be a double weekend though, because I'm posting a chapter today, and then I have another day off tomorrow. **

**This chapter did not come easy, but I'm finally comfortable with where this story is going and how everything will play out. We have a few new people to add to our cast of characters here. Namely, Miss Rachel Berry. I will be writing her as her old self, not this new sassy non-sense. Hope you all enjoy!**

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda**

_I realize that this little development is now a little known fact of pop culture, relegated to the I Love the 90s version of _Trivial Pursuit,_ and a running joke in my household. Rachel Berry is one of my closest friends, and a sister to me. I love her dearly, but even back then, before we met, she was an unmitigated pain in the ass. Ironically, however, of all the publicity disasters that could have come out of that night, the one Blaine's manager picked up on was the one I was least expecting._

"Blaine, have you lost your mind?" Joe, his manager said, staring pointedly across the desk at his client. "We have spend three years carefully crafting an image as a lady's man, and you go a ruin the whole thing with _Rachel Berry_?"

_The term 'industry joke' is almost certainly too harsh of a word to describe what Rachel's image was like at the time, but it should be noted that her reputation was almost nothing like the Broadway Baby she is now. She got her start as a Disney Channel star, and a loud mouthed one at that. I should remind you all that the Disney Channel was not the star maker it is today, and that's really saying something. _

Blaine looked a little dumb struck. All he had been _trying_ to do, was suggest that he and Rachel _might_ be dating. He had slipped some pictures of the one time they had hung out under the door of a well known paparazzi, and idiotically allowed him to do with them what he wished. He had intended to keep people off the scent of his homosexuality. He had definitely _not_ intended to be one half of a celebrity odd couple.

"Please, _please_ tell me that this is a misunderstanding, that you're not _actually_ dating Rachel Berry?" Joe asked, sighing and taking off his glasses so he could rub his eyes.

"Of course not!" Blaine said, maybe too loudly. "I...I have no idea how they got those photos," Blaine said. He gulped. When had lying become so easy for him?

"Yeah well, we're going to have a hard time convincing anyone else of that. Especially since her people are already pushing the story," he said. "As far as they're concerned. This is career gold for her."

"Well, I mean if the tooth paste is out of the tube...," Blaine said, picking up his bag to make a hasty escape from the office.

"This isn't over, Blaine," Joe said pointedly. Blaine felt a bit like a scolded child. "You have to get to set now, but we _will _be talking about this later."

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"Will you guys believe _anything_ you read in those stupid gossip rags? Do you know how many times they've reported Leonardo DiCaprio's tragic death, just in the past month?" Kurt huffed, finally getting fed up listening to the girls yammer on about Blaine and Rachel. "Don't you think we would have seen her around set or something, if they were actually dating."

"I think it's sweet that he goes to such lengths to keep their relationship out of the public eye," Sugar said, dreamily. "He's so romantic."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "the man is a walking flirt machine. _Romantic_ is definitely not a word I would use to describe him. The guy's a player."

Tina gave him a look that Kurt wasn't quite able to read, "I think his personal life is none of our damn business. You guys don't know anything about him besides what they print in those rags," she said, primly returning to the pants she was hemming.

"What do you know what we don't know Cohen-Chang?" she asked. "You're awfully quiet over there."

"I don't know anything," Tina snapped back. "I'm just saying that I'm sure he's getting enough shit today. We don't need to add to it by squawking like a bunch of french hens."

"I'm inclined to agree," Kurt said, passing out some sewing patterns to his assistants. "Less talking, more working."

_It's an interesting question to examine for sure. What _did_ Tina know that we didn't. I knew at that point that she had started on the set at Dalton that same time that Blaine did, but that wasn't unusual. Tons of people had been there from the beginning. It turned out, however, that Wes wasn't the only childhood friend working on the set._

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"Anderson, what have you done?" Tina said, slipping into Blaine's dressing room and dropping a stack of clothes onto the table. "You should hear the sewing room right now. The girls won't stop yammering on about how romantic it is, and Kurt looks like he's about to burn a hole in the sewing machine with the strength of his glare alone."

Blaine looked up from the magazine he was reading and shrugged, "I can't be held responsible for the gossip in the wardrobe room, Tina. I'm sorry they're annoying you."

"Don't play dumb with me, Blaine. I know we agreed to keep things professional, but this is too crazy to ignore," Tina replied. Not wanting to risk other people thinking that Tina had only gotten the job through Blaine, she had asked him to keep their connection a secret while at work.

"I'm not playing dumb. This just isn't really a good time..."

"It's one thing the lie to the press. People do it it all the time, but Rachel Berry?" Tina questioned. "Blaine, you'll be a laughing stock. What could have possibly made you _that _desperate."

"I have a feeling I know," came a voice from behind them. Someone had unceremoniously opened the door to Blaine's dressing room. Tina was shocked, and a bit embarrassed to see that it was Rachel Berry herself, decked out in all her school girl glory. Publicist's advice be-damned, Blaine decided that it was probably best to try and clean this mess up himself, and he had called Rachel to see if she would be willing to meet.

Blaine, on the other hand, looked resigned, but non-plussed at the woman's presence, "I told you it wasn't a good time," Blaine said to Tina, sighing and setting his magazine aside. "Nice of you to come on such short notice, Rachel, but I would appreciate you knocking next time. Tina, if you could tell Kurt that I have to postpone my one o'clock fitting. I'd ask you not to tell him why, but I have a feeling you're just going to tell him anyway."

Tina raised her eye brows, but complied anyway, "this conversation isn't over, Blaine," she said as she closed the door behind her. That sentence seemed to be a theme for him today.

"Alone at last," Rachel said, dramatically, un-winding the scarf from around her neck and plopping down next to Blaine on the couch.

"You do know we're not actually dating, right?" Blaine asked bitterly. He was so not in the mood for this, even though he knew it was entirely his own fault. If anything he should really be grateful that Rachel was being so nice about it.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Look, let's me make one thing clear. I'm a lot of things, Anderson, but stupid is _not_ one of them. Mark my words, I _will_ be a big star on Broadway one day, and my Disney Channel days will be long behind me. But, I will do so without any help from the likes of you," she said harshly, surprising Blaine with her shrewd tone. "I know that you're going to try to spin this whole thing as a boon to my career and a minor blip on yours, but if I'm not much mistaken. I'm the one doing you a favor in this situation."

Blaine stared blankly back at her, "and how do you figure that?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes, "despite my reputation, I'm very popular with the _Wigfest_ crowd. They think I'll be the new Cher. You can imagine my surprise when I went to see some of my friends perform at a popular drag show last night, only to see a moderately well disguised teen idol hanging at the bar."

Blaine paled, but narrowed his eyes back, "so, you're going to black mail me? What else could you possibly want? The whole world already thinks we're dating."

Rachel cowed at the suggestion, "what do you take me for? Didn't you hear what I said two seconds ago. I'm going to get the glory I obviously deserve without riding on your sequined coat tails..."

"I'm not gay it that's what you're trying to imply, Rachel," Blaine said, cutting her off.

Rachel's whole face softened, "Oh, honey, you don't really expect me to believe that do you? I have excellent gay-dar. My Dads taught me well,"

Blaine sighed, but crossed his arms petulantly. Of course he would pick the gayest straight woman of all time to be his beard. He might as well be fake dating Liza Minnelli, "look, I called you in hear to find out how to deal with this mess. If you're not black mailing me, then can we get back to the point."

"Blaine, I'm not here to make trouble for you," Rachel said, taking his hand in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but Blaine had to fight every instinct to recoil. "I'm here to help you. I know I might seem like a diva, but I know what it's like for people like you, especially in this industry. It would be _perfect_. I'm too ambitious to be held down by a man, so we can fake date for as long as you want. And, I won't mind if you want to sleep with the pool boy!" she said, almost giddily, dropping Blaine's hands to throw her own in the air excitedly. "And if it happens to give my career the boost it needs to..."

"Rachel, don't say anymore. You're going to spoil the fact that you're actually doing a nice thing," Blaine said, holding his hand out to silence her. Despite what his manager said about his ladies man image he was tempted, sorely, sorely tempted.

_Didn't I warn you this was going to be a long story? Blaine's never relayed the details of exactly what else happened that day, at least not to me. My theory is that he blocked it out. More likely, is that he really wants me to believe he blocked it out. Either way, the fact was, that this was the reality for so many gay men during the 90s. Things were getting better back then, and more and more people were becoming comfortable being themselves, but the fact remained that many gay people, especially in the public eye were resigning themselves to a life of solitude, or a marriage of convenience. We had evolved enough to be aware of our urges, but the world hadn't changed in their opinions dramatically enough for us to do much about it._

_Sometimes I feel guilty about how I treated Blaine in those early days. I was thinking a lot about how I was feeling, but was completely ignoring how all of these things might have been affecting him. There was something about him that made me feel like we had known each other for ages, but really I barely knew him at all. He didn't owe me anything, let alone his deepest, most closely hidden secret._


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so appreciative of the patience you guys have with me. I don't know if it makes it any better, but no one is more disappointed about how little time I have to write than I am. I love writing this story, and it seems like I constantly have ideas swirling around in my head that I barely have time to get out. I do hope that you enjoy the next chapter!**

**I hate to make any sort of excuse, because it has taken me way too long, and this chapter isn't even that long, but the truth is that I actually got promoted at work (CRAZY), and I've been desperately trying to catch up. Things have calmed now, so hopefully that means better timing on the horizon!**

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda.**

"You know, sometimes when Sugar is doing my fittings I've wondered what it would be like to have a mute tailor. I guess now I know," Blaine quipped, finally breaking the twenty minute long silence. Kurt had come in for their scheduled meeting just as Rachel was leaving Blaine's dressing room, and Kurt had said little more than, 'here are your clothes' and 'turn a little more to the right'.

"Is there something in particular you needed to talk about, Blaine," Kurt said around a mouth full of pins. His tone was practically daring Blaine to say yes.

"I guess I just...never mind," Blaine finally said. "You've just been more quiet than usual. That's all."

"Blaine, I spend all day with a group of the worlds biggest gossips. They never shut up. You'll excuse me if I feel like working in silence for a bit," Kurt said, his tone softening slightly. "And besides, with a girlfriend like Rachel Berry, I figured you might like some peace and quiet as well."

Blaine couldn't help it. It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, "Oh my god, you don't think I'm actually dating her, do you?" Blaine said, before clamping a hand over his mouth. "I can't believe I just said that."

Kurt gave him a look that was at once reassuring and sassy, "I wasn't born yesterday, Rock Hudson. I'm not going to spill _any_ of your secrets. Don't' worry," Kurt said, standing up to pack up his materials. "I may be a bitch, but I'm not evil."

"I don't think your a bitch," Blaine said, playing with the threading on his shirt sleeve.

"Don't play with that. You'll lose a button," Kurt said, almost absent-mindedly, "And it's very nice of you to say, but I know I am. You don't have to lie."

"You're sharp and opinionated, and you can be an unmitigated pain in the ass, but you aren't a bitch," Blaine said, going behind his privacy screen to change back into street clothes. "When you're not doing your whole 'aloof' act, you're actually kind of sweet," Blaine added. It was much easier to be candid when they weren't face to face.

_Blaine was actually the first people to EVER call me sweet, at least to my face, and my instincts tell me that the things people said behind my back were probably worse. It was also the first time that a crush made me feel...gooey...if that makes sense. And whether I wanted to admit it at the time or not, that's exactly what it was: a crush. I think it's worth noting that as soon as I left that dressing room, I buried the feeling as far down as possible._

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"...And the dressing I wanted was on the salad bar the whole time! I can't believe I made that poor woman go looking for it!" Adam said, finishing up an extremely long anecdote about the cold, prepared food station at Whole Foods. Kurt had been dating him for a few weeks now, and frankly the man was proving to be extremely boring. His British accent alone was enough to get him through the first date, but after that his interest diminished rapidly. But, he was cute and nice, and he spent most of his time complimenting Kurt, so when one of his model friends had managed to score him a reservation for two at one of the city's ritziest restaurants, Adam was the best he could do for a date on such short notice.

_It didn't hurt, that he helped to fuel my delusion that I didn't have any romantic feelings for Blaine._

"You sure know how to captivate an audience," Kurt said, hoping that his tone was ambiguous enough that Adam wouldn't realize he was being sarcastic. He didn't really notice either way, because out of the corner of his eye, he saw the hostess seating another couple at the table next to them. A second glance confirmed his suspicions. Right next to them was none other than Rachel Berry and Blaine Anderson.

He and Blaine locked eyes long enough for Kurt to narrow his eyes, and Blaine to give a small, dismissive shrug, but to the casual observer it looked like nothing had transpired. Adam _did_ notice, however, that Kurt aggressively reached across the table to link their hands, "someone's feeling affectionate tonight," Adam said with a bright smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Kurt almost felt bad about the hopeful expression on Adam's face, _almost_, but he was too overwhelmed by his irritation at Blaine's sudden presence to think on it too much.

"Don't look now," Adam stage whispered, "but I think that's Blaine Anderson and Rachel Berry next to us."

This time Kurt really couldn't hold back a sarcastic eye roll, although he supposed it was really his own fault that he hadn't bothered to provide any real details about what he did for a living. He turned his head sharply and tried not to snort at the lack of eye contact between the 'couple' beside him, "hello, Blaine. We have to stop running into each other like this," he said raising an eyebrow. Adam looked at Rachel for any indication that she knew what was going on, but she just shrugged and went back to nibbling on a roll from the basket on the table. "Are you going to introduce me to your...date?"

Blaine cleared his throat, "Um...okay...well, this is my girlfriend, Rachel. Rachel, this is Kurt, he does the wardrobe for the show," he said, slipping effortlessly back into his typical persona. "He's the one that makes me look so good," he added. "And what about you? Who's your friend?"

"This is Adam," Kurt answered, feeling no need to elaborate.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Adam said, shaking Blaine's hand, and then Rachel's with his free one, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two other men.

Kurt only held their gaze for a moment longer before the waitress came over to deliver their food, "well, enjoy dinner," he said with a nod.

_I wish I could say that this was the last interaction we had that night. I was already acting a bit like a petulant child. The fact that Blaine was pretending to date Rachel was none of my business, but at the time I couldn't figure out why it _bothered_ me so much. I told myself that it was because I didn't like that he was lying to the world, but in retrospect, I was jealous. Blaine was (and is) gorgeous, talented, and charismatic, and I was one my fourth date with the human equivalent of vegetable lasagna. _

"Darn it!" Kurt and Adam heard Blaine exclaim from the table next to them.

"Is everything alright?" Adam said, looking over with concern on his face. Kurt couldn't help but notice how quickly the British accent had gone from sexy to irritating.

"Yeah, sorry. It's fine," Blaine said, distractedly fiddling with his sleeve. "It's just the button popped off my sleeve, and this is a new shirt."

Kurt was too busy glaring at the way Rachel fussed over Blaine's wrist, and figuring out the best way to say 'I told you so', to stop Adam from saying what came out of his mouth next, "well Kurt always keeps a sewing kit in his bag. I bet he could got to bathroom and fix it for you, right Kurt."

Kurt stared at him, blinking rapidly. Of all the little details that Adam could have picked up on, this _had_ to be one of them. "I...uh..."

"That would be great!" Blaine said. "You're a life saver!"

**And before you all ask, Blaine totally popped the button on purpose. I figured I owe you that much since I made you wait so long between chapters. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda.**

It was amazing how far Kurt's thoughts could spiral out of control during the thirty second walk to the bathroom. He went from being pissed off at the world for creating the situation, to wondering how quickly he could get the button back on Blaine's shirt, to picturing a semi-pornographic scene where Blaine slowly takes his shirt of and hovers sexily while Kurt stitched. Kurt barely had time to scold himself for that last thought before he was pushing the door to the bathroom open, and following Blaine inside.

Blaine didn't end up taking his shirt off, but what Kurt hadn't counted on, was that the alternative was way worse. There was something surprisingly intimate about holding Blaine's hand in his and carefully mending the sleeve. Kurt had worked on clothes while Blaine was wearing them before, but it had always been fast—a pin here, a measurement there, nothing as prolonged as this.

The way Blaine's hand fit in his, even at this odd angle was a bit mesmerizing, so mesmerizing that Kurt didn't hear Blaine trying to get his attention until he moved his hand to tap him on the arm, "Kurt, _Kurt...earth to Kurt!"_ Blaine said, nudging him. "You'd think after all this time in the fashion world, you wouldn't have to concentrate so hard on fixing a popped button," he added, raising his eyebrows in a way that Kurt couldn't place as concern or confusion, perhaps a little of both.

"I...sorry, my mind was somewhere else entirely," Kurt said, shaking his head and taking up his task again. "I told you not to fiddle with it. You're lucky someone was here. I'm sure that girlfriend of yours doesn't know a needle from a..."

"For the millionth time, Kurt, Rachel is not my girlfriend. She's just..."

Kurt once again paused his task to look up at Blaine, incredulity written all over his face, "Well, you introduced her as such. I forgot that you can also spell girlfriend B-E-A-R-D," Kurt quipped back, once again choosing his harsh sense of humor instead of addressing the way it felt to be so close to Blaine.

"I'd defend her honor, but I'm the one who fake popped a button to get away from her," Blaine said, only shrugging when Kurt's head popped up in surprise. "She's a sweet girl, but I wish I had picked someone less irritating to pretend date."

"So you're admitting it? She's your beard?" Kurt asked tying off the end of the thread, and tucking the needle back into his travel pin cushion.

Blaine sighed, "Do you...do you remember that night at the diner—before this whole mess started?" Kurt nodded, no longer fussing over his sewing kit, and giving Blaine his full attention, "Remember how you said that I could talk to you and you wouldn't tell anyone? Is that offer...still open?" Blaine asked quietly, only daring to look back up at Kurt after a moment had passed.

"I...of course, if that's what you want," Kurt said, actively fighting not to look down at his shoes. "We can go to that same diner that we..."

"No," Blaine said cutting him off. "It's too public. I can't risk it. Could we maybe...can you come meet me at my apartment later tonight?"

"I...sure," Kurt replied, his mouth responding faster than his brain. He would berate himself later for agreeing to such an intimate setting, but for now all he could see was someone who really needed a friend he could trust.

"I'm going to drop Rachel off as soon as we're done eating. I'll page you when you should come over," Blaine said, leading the way out of the bathroom. "Oh, and one last thing," Blaine said with a cheeky look over his shoulder, trying to break the tension that had mounted in the bathroom. "British guys, really?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and gave Blaine a little shove, "Let's go, Romeo, our dates are waiting."

0000000000

_Sometimes I wonder how long Blaine would have held on to his secret if I had never come into his life. Sometimes I think he might have taken it to his grave. I mean, so few people knew: his dad and Wes, and I suppose Rachel. At this point in his life, his brother didn't even know, and his mom died before she ever found out. Or maybe he would have found some other man to bring him out of his shell. All I know, is that I'm glad I could be there for him. I could empathize. I mean, truth time: I didn't come out to my dad until he caught me jerking off to a magazine with J__ason Priestley on the cover. Coming out is hard nowadays, but it was even harder then. One thing is for sure though, the more you say it the easier it is. That night in Blaine's apartment was only the start._

"Um...we don't have much the way of groceries, but I have a package of Snackwells and I'm sure Wes wouldn't mind if we broke into his Handi-Snacks," Blaine shouted, voice muffled from being shoved inside the kitchen cupboard.

"Blaine..." Kurt started, trying to get his attention. He was sitting on the couch in Blaine's living room, waiting for him to come sit down.

"Oh, wait, Lays sent me these weird _Wow_ chips they want me to be the spokes person for, but I don't know if they're any good. They don't come out until next year," he continued, inspecting the colorful package on the counter.

"Blaine..." Kurt tried again.

"Maybe I could run to the store and..."

"Blaine!" Kurt finally shouted over the other man. "We both just had an enormous three course dinner. Why don't you pour me a glass of water and come sit down."

Blaine nodded, looking a little sheepish, before taking out a glass, filling it up, and making his way over to Kurt, "I um...I really appreciate you coming. I know we don't know each other that well, but..."

"But you think that in some ways we might understand each other better than most other people could?" Kurt said, getting right to the point.

"Kurt, I..." Blaine started, taking a deep breath, and then slowly letting it out again. "...I'm gay." Blaine finally said, forcing himself to look Kurt in the eye. Blaine had to hand it to him. For all his jabs and quips, there was no 'I told you so' in Kurt's expression, only understanding.

"How long have you known," he finally asked, rubbing at the condensation on the still untouched glass in his hand.

"Since I was sixteen. I mean, I think some part of me has always known, but I didn't know what it was until I was sixteen," Blaine said, slumping back into the couch. Kurt had never seen him look so vacant, totally devoid of the usual twinkle in his eyes. "It was right before I really started getting into the business. I think that if the realization came in a less shocking way, I never would have told my dad, but as it is now he's one of two people, well three now I guess, that know."

"Wes is the other?" Kurt said, more just to say anything than anything else.

"Yeah, but that's a story for another day," Blaine said. Kurt was pretty sure he tried to chuckle, but it came out mirthless and strained.

_As much as I love the story, Blaine was absolutely correct. The horrifying story of the one week where Blaine thought he had a crush on Wes, and almost kissed him when they were having a sleepover would have been a little too much for both of us to handle at that point._

"It started the first time I noticed that a girl had a crush on me. You know Tina, she works in wardrobe with you?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah of course I know her," Kurt said. "She was your number one defender when I used to call you a man whore," Blaine gave him a pointed look, but didn't say anything. "Sorry, it won't happen again!" Kurt said putting the water on the coffee table and putting up his hands in surrender.

"Right, well, we've known each other for years. We grew up together, and then one day another one of my friends told me that she had told his girlfriend that she liked me," Blaine said with a shrug. "The whole thing was very...high school, but I figured I'd go for it. I was already starting to worry that I didn't like girls that way. I thought dating Tina would help," Blaine explained.

"So then what happened?" Kurt encouraged.

"Not much at first. We went out a few times. We kissed and it felt good. I figured I was in the clear," Blaine started. "But then she started to want more, and I couldn't' think of a good reason not to give it to her. We were fooling around one night, and she told me she wanted to have sex. I was nervous, but I agreed. Long story short, my dick didn't agree."

"So you..."

"...couldn't get hard," Blaine said, answering Kurt's unasked question. "I was sixteen. Everything gave me a boner. A particularly good sandwich could give me a hard-on, but boobs...nothing. I think woman are beautiful. Tina was, and still is, beautiful, but loving them in that way..."

Kurt nodded his understanding, "What did she do?" Kurt said, turning to face Blaine, both concern and rapt interest clear in his voice.

"I...she was...understanding, I supposed. I told her it was just nerves, and in retrospect that was probably true, but it freaked me out," Blaine said, once again picking on the thread of his shirt before Kurt absentmindedly batted his hand away. "I apologized over and over, but in the end I just pulled on my clothes as quickly as possible, told her that we could still be friends, and ran home." Kurt opened his mouth to ask what happened next, but quickly closed it in favor of letting Blaine speak when he was ready. "Then...then I made one of the stupidest decisions of my young life."

_Blaine's relationship, and later our relationship, with his Dad has always been complicated. Cooper Anderson Sr. is a lot of things, but a stage parent isn't one of them. It's a common misconception that the teenage dreamboat we all know and love was created by a pushy, overbearing father figure, but honestly it was all Blaine. He wanted to be a performer with all his heart, and to Mr. Anderson's credit, he supported him. Unfortunately, supporting his career meant not supporting his homosexuality. _

"I don't know what I was thinking, but I was in such a state when I got home that I confessed everything. I had never even said it out loud before, but as soon as I burst through the door, my dad knew something was up," Blaine buried his hands in his hair, and Kurt moved closer to wrapped an arm around the other man, hoping to comfort him. "I just couldn't lie to him," Blaine said freezing a bit from the contact, but quickly relaxing into the embrace. "He didn't speak a word to me for two weeks, and when he finally did, he said, 'I found you an agent, and as of tomorrow when we meet with him for the first time, you are not gay'."

Kurt let out a shaky breath. "That was it? He didn't say anything else?" he asked squeezing Blaine's shoulder, and handing him the untouched water when he saw a tear rolling down his cheek.

Blaine took it gratefully, and took a few sips before putting it back on the coffee table, "that was it. Frankly, since that moment he's barely said ten more words on the subject, and things were fine. I loved my career, and I figured love could wait," Blaine said, finally leaning back on the couch, and cautiously snuggling closer to Kurt. "But I kept getting older and older, and the secret started to bother me more and more, and then...and then you came barreling into my life."

"I..." Kurt began, but Blaine quickly cut him off.

"And you're about as out and proud as people get, and you wear those _pants_, and..." Blaine cut himself off, and squeezed his eyes shut, "And when I saw you in that club the other week, I panicked. And for the first time, it wasn't because I was afraid you would know my secret, but because I knew that someone like you would never go for a coward like me," Blaine said, finally opening his eyes and looking up at Kurt, wetness still evident on his cheeks.

It was Kurt's turn to freeze. His breath hitched even as he was pulling Blaine closer, so that his head was resting on his shoulder, "you are _not_ a coward," Kurt insisted, sealing his conviction with a firm kiss to Blaine's temple.

_And at that point, that was the most meaningful kiss either of us had ever had._


	8. Chapter 8

**So I'm giving you guys this chapter tonight, with the promise that there will be a meatier one coming tomorrow. This chapter is necessary to progress the story, but we'll get to the good stuff later. I hate using my job as an excuse, but it's a very real reason why writing time is so hard to come by. A few of you have asked what I do. I'm the manager of a museum, and that means that I work ridiculous and unpredictable hours. I love my job, but it's definitely crazy. I have the day off tomorrow, though, and I'm devoting it to finishing the next chapter (much of it is already written). I hope you enjoy!**

**Come say hi on tumblr, practical-amanda.**

"Damn, Boy, you're home late," Unique said, as Kurt was walking through the door. She was sitting on the couch watching the Late Show with David Letterman. "Your 'dates' with Adam never last longer than like two hours. You told me spending time with him was like dating dry toast."

"Yes, boring, and only slightly better than eating nothing at all," Kurt replied plopping down on the couch next to his room mate. "I ended up going home with someone else," he added wiggling his eyebrows slightly.

"I see! Unique is officially intrigued," she said, turning the TV on mute and turning so that she was fully facing Kurt. "Tell me everything. Was he cute? Was he hung?"

Kurt laughed, "yes, and maybe. It wasn't like that 'Nique. He's just a friend who needed a friend," Kurt said, sticking his hand in the bag of chips that were already on the couch, and shoving a large hand full into his mouth. He only continued when Unique gave him her 'I'm not impressed' look, "I met him at the club the night I went to see you perform. He's a total closet case, and he needed someone to talk to. I happened to see him at the restaurant with his beard, so I went back to his house so we could talk. He's sweet and cute as a button, but he's pretty messed up in the head right now. The last thing he needs is some predatory gay coming onto him."

Unique seemed to accept that explanation, "maybe in the future, though?"

Kurt thought for a minute, he hadn't even allowed himself to entertain that idea, but now that he was being forced to think about it, he realized that the idea had been in the back of his mind all along, "maybe in the future."

_One of the things that I always appreciated, and still appreciate to this day, about Unique is that she always knows when she shouldn't press. She's pushy, and nosy as hell, but she always knows when asking the next questions will cross the line. She knew I was intentionally leaving out any personal information about this mystery man, but she also knew that the truth would come out in it's own time. There was no need to fish for more._

Unique stretched her arms over her head dramatically, and made a show of putting the volume back on the TV. She knew when the conversation was over, but she couldn't help adding one thing, "leave it to the fishiest queen this side of the Mississippi to bring out the shiest of our kind."

"You're nothing if not modest," Kurt said, rolling his eyes and settling back to watch the program with his room mate.

0000000000

"Anderson, it's bad enough that you're publicly dating Rachel Berry. Did you have to get sloppy on us as well?" Blaine's agent had called him, and curiously enough, Kurt into a meeting in Blaine's dressing room, to rage about a recent tabloid headline about him wearing cheap clothes.

"It was just a popped button," Blaine cried, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "Don't you think you might be over reacting just a touch?" he added, crossing his arms in frustration.

"I'm your manager, Blaine. It's my job to care about these things," he replied. "A week ago, I would have let it go, but your reputation can't take another blow—not even one as small as this."

Blaine let out a huff, and Kurt took this as his opportunity to speak up, intuiting that Blaine might need a minute to stew quietly, "if I may.." he cut in, "...this is all very interesting, and as a fashion expert I never give up an opportunity to talk about style, but why exactly am I here?" he questioned.

John seemed relieved that Kurt cut in. He didn't like fighting with Blaine. He liked the guy, but someone had to play hardball, or Blaine would never have gotten to where he is today, "well, it's been apparent to me for a while now, and I think that last night's incident was the tipping point, but I think that someone of Blaine's status should really have his own stylist," John explained. "I called you in here to see if you had any recommendations. You know, someone who could dress him for events, act as a personal shopper. It would just be a part time gig."

_Trust me, I know what you're thinking. At this point I could have suggested that _I_ could be Blaine's part time stylist, and then we could become closer and closer, fall madly in love, and run off into the sunset. I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to, but I couldn't. I was over-worked as it was, and agreeing to be Blaine's stylist would have just been selfish. I wouldn't have been able to do either job as well as I wanted. Instead, I did the next most selfish thing I could think of. _

"With all due respect, Sir, I don't think Blaine really needs a stylist," the last thing Kurt wanted was another one of his fashion friends getting his or her grubby paws on Blaine. "I've told him a million times not to pick at the threads on his clothes. If he can break that nervous habit, then we won't have to worry about it," Kurt chanced a glance at Blaine to see how he was reacting.

He looked equal parts relieved and grateful. The last thing he needed was someone else hovering over him, "I'll work on it, sir, and if you want someone to style me for the red carpet that's..."

"I can commit to doing red carpet events. They don't happen that often," Kurt cut in.

John looked between the two men, but finally appeared satisfied with the plan, "fine, but if anything else happens I'm finding someone myself," he said before checking his beeper and swiftly exiting the room.

Blaine slumped back in his seat the minute the door closed behind him. Things had been...different between the two men since that night in Blaine's apartment. It would have been impossible for it not to be. Blaine had confessed to a crush at the very least, and had spent the better part of the night quietly crying out years of pent up emotion while Kurt held him, mourning soothing words, and occasionally planting kisses in his hair, "thanks for that," he finally said.

"No need to thank me. I was telling the truth," Kurt said, shrugging and taking a sip from his water bottle. "You don't need a stylist...I actually kind of like the way you dress. It's...cute."

Blaine looked up at that. He wasn't sure what to say, "glad to hear it," he said, settling on simplicity. "Any big plans for the weekend?" he asked, trying to deflect from how it felt to hear Kurt call him cute.

Kurt looked at his watch and realized that the weekend was actually only about an hour away at this point, "not really," he replied. "Unique and I talked about having a spa day, and I might try to get some pieces done for myself" he said shrugging. "I usually spend Sunday mornings doing the crossword puzzle at the diner by my apartment."

"The one we went to after..." Blaine began, hoping he wouldn't have finish the thought.

"The very same," Kurt confirmed. "Anyway, I better get going. Unique's face won't exfoliate itself."

Blaine gave him a look like he didn't know what he was talking about, but nodded and waved anyway, "see you around, Kurt."

"See you around, Blaine."


	9. Chapter 9

**Here we go, as promised. I hope that you all like this chapter, as it's one of my favorites, and it continues to set up a lot of what's to come. I feel obliged to mention the amazing 90s-ness of this past episode, even if the boy band mashup was with my two least favorite characters...**

**Also, cannon Rachel is actually making me sick recently, so I hope my version is far more bearable. **

**Come say hi on tumblr! practical-amanda**

"What the hell? It's supposed to be March!" Kurt muttered to himself as he stepped out of his apartment for the first time that Saturday afternoon and saw that it was snowing. Kurt had always been someone that woke up early, even on weekends. Today was no exception, but the motivation to actually leave his bedroom and do something, was usually harder to come by. He had been awakened by a craving for sushi. There was a pretty good place not too far from his apartment, but when he went out into the kitchen to find a note from Unique stating that she would be out all day, wig shopping with her drag friends, the idea of going out seemed far less appealing.

Kurt wasn't a stranger to eating out alone. His often crazy and unpredictable work hours left him with no choice a lot of the time, and a he was used to grabbing a quick bite on his own. Weekends were different though. Without the distractions of his hectic job to dull his underlying loneliness, he was left to face it head on. Unique was his best and closest friend, and he loved her dearly, but sometimes it felt like she was his _only_ friend.

Sure, he knew a lot of people, and his address book was chock full of names and numbers, but they were almost exclusively people that he used to get ahead or to get off. His list of people that he could call just to hang out on a Saturday afternoon was woefully thin.

Kurt sighed again, tugging the lapel of his jacket to fit more tightly around his neck, and abandoning his goal of the sushi place. The coffee shop was much closer and far more welcoming in this weather. No sooner than he sank into the arm chair in the corner, however, he was being assaulted by none other than Rachel Berry.

"Oh my goodness, I know you!" She squealed, plopping herself down across from him uninvited. "I recognize you from the restaurant. You're Blaine's friend!"

Kurt took a sip from his mocha, "um...yes that was me...Kurt," he said, trying to decide whether he felt more irritated or uncomfortable.

Rachel looked over both of her shoulders exaggeratedly, as if she was checking to see if anyone was listening in, and Kurt rolled his eyes and blinked around at the rest of the patrons who weren't paying one bit of attention to him and the B-List 'celebrity'. Seemingly satisfied that she wouldn't be overheard, Rachel started to talk again, "I just wanted you to know," she started in a stage whisper, "that I'm totally cool with it, and I think it's great that you two have found each other."

Kurt nearly choked on the sip of Mocha he was in the middle of taking when the words that Rachel had said hit him fully, "I'm sorry...what?" he asked, hoping that he had misheard.

"No need to be coy!" she said, leaning back in the chair with a self satisfied smirk. "I was raised by two dads, and I'm poised to follow in the footsteps of some of the greatest idols of Gay culture. I understand."

Kurt was almost distracted enough by Rachel's proclamation of having two Dads to squelch the overwhelming panic he was starting to feel on Blaine's behalf. Even these days, hearing about openly alternative families like that was rare.

_I hoped that at this point it would be much more common, but sometimes history takes time, I suppose._

"Rachel...I think that you might be confused...," Kurt said slowly, trying to choose his words carefully, "Blaine and I are not...Blaine's not..."

"Kurt, I _know_," she finally said, effectively cutting him off. "And I don't mind being a beard, really. I think it will make for an extremely interesting chapter when I eventually write my best selling tell-all," she said, eyes still bright with excitement.

"Rachel, I know you probably think your gay-dar is iron clad, but you..."

"No, I mean like, he _told_ me," she said finally. "We have an understanding. Although, it's good to know that he has such a loyal companion," she added with an exaggerated wink.

Kurt let out another long suffering sigh, "we aren't together, Rachel," Kurt said, setting his cup on the table. "And I appreciate your concern for the situation, but your arrangement with Blaine is really none of my business," he said, picking up the newspaper that he came with to indicate that he wanted to conversation to be over.

_The fact that I thought that move would be enough to thwart her was emblematic of how thoroughly I did not know Rachel yet._

The silence that washed over us while Rachel was collecting her thoughts lulled Kurt into a false sense of security, and he nearly spilled his drink in surprise when she started talking again, "so you mean to tell me that there is absolutely _nothing_ between the two of you?"

Kurt paused. He could try to blame leftover hesitance from the way that Rachel had just startled him, but the truth was that Rachel had just asked the $64,000 question, the one that had been bouncing around his head since last weekend, "I..."

"I see," Rachel said, sounding more than a little smug and triumphant.

"The last thing he needs is someone going after him right when he's just figuring himself out, and plus...I don't know how I feel about being someones dirty little secret," Kurt said quietly, internally panicking that he was sharing so much with someone he barely knew. But what was the alternative? As much as Kurt hated to admit it, Rachel Berry was the closest thing he had to a sounding board in this situation. There was no other option that wouldn't include outing Blaine.

"Okay, first of all, Blaine is not 'just figuring himself out'. He's known he was gay for close to ten years," she said, leveling Kurt with an unimpressed glare, "and the 'I don't want to date someone in the closet' excuse sounds like just that: an excuse. Here's a thought, Blaine's going to stay in the cozy little closet until he has a reason to come out of it."

Kurt finally returned her gaze. He hated to admit it, but she had a point, "I don't know what you want me to say."

Rachel's eyes softened once again until they were almost comically doe like, "Kurt, I...I saw the way the two of you looked at each other in that restaurant, and I saw how quickly Blaine found an excuse o get the two of you alone," she started, "I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you that if you don't do anything I think you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

_This is probably the part of the story that I find hardest to put into words. I'm sure all of you out there reading have had this experience, when someone says something out loud and it suddenly becomes about a million times more real. In one fell swoop, Rachel had destroyed all of the hard work I had done pushing away my growing feelings for Blaine. I had explained it away a hundred times in a hundred different ways, telling myself that it was only a crush, or that Blaine only needed my friendship. But,as much as It pains me to write, even to this day (if you're reading this Rachel, I love you, but I hate when you're right), Rachel was completely correct. All of these reasons were just excuses, and each one was more flimsy than the last._

_This didn't make the situation any better. As anyone will tell you, being acutely aware of your romantic interest in someone does not mean that you will be suddenly able to share your epiphany, or that the person will like you back. I was reasonably certain of the latter. Blaine had admitted as much, but being interested in someone, and being willing to risk everything for them are two entirely different things. Blaine's lie was elaborate and carefully sculpted, and in a lot of ways, his entire career was built around it._

"Twelve down is beanies," Kurt heard in his right ear the next morning, once again nearly causing him to spill his coffee. His brain barely had enough time to recognize the voice when Blaine, in all his curly haired, be-stubbled glory was suddenly sitting across from him in the diner.

"Hello, Blaine. I'm great. Thanks for asking. How are you?" Kurt said dryly, his heart still thumping from being startled, and maybe a little bit from the way that Blaine's hair hung loosely on his forehead, just begging to be played with.

Blaine gave him a wry smile and was about to reply, but the waitress came over, having noticed the new person, to take his order. Blaine leaned his chin on his elbow, and batted his eyelashes in a way that was just short of cartoonish, but even Kurt couldn't truthfully say that he was immune to his charm, "Hi, darlin'," he started out, and Kurt saw the waitress turn an impressive shade of red. "I would love a short stack of pancakes, and a side of bacon...oh and a coffee. Thanks, babe," he added with a wink.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I realize that you've spent years perfecting your...charms, such as they are," Kurt said, bemusement in his voice betraying him, "but must you do that to every woman you meet."

Before Blaine could give an answer, the waitress was back, sliding a plate of chocolate chip coffee cake onto the table, "this one's on me," she said, scurrying away as quickly as she came.

"What was that about my charms?" Blaine said, taking an overly large bite of cake and tossing the piece of paper with the waitresses phone number, that was tucked between his coffee cup and saucer, into his bag with an amused chuckle. "Damn, this is good. I'm going to miss to free food when I eventually come out of the closet," Blaine said, dropping the fork down on the plate in shock as soon as the words left his mouth.

Kurt gaped at him for a moment, unable to come up with any words. Taking into account what Kurt knew about Blaine and how quickly he tended to become closed off, he decided that brushing past the comment would be the best option. "You're insufferable," Kurt said, but his tone held no acid. "Don't you have a 'girlfriend'?" Kurt said, stabbing his fork into the cake, and taking a bite of his own.

It was Blaine's turn to roll his eyes, "there is no way that girl recognized me, or she would never have given me her number," Blaine explained, "and anyway, you may have been able to see through the facial hair disguise, but you see me every day. No one else will."

"And what exactly is it you're doing here, besides flirting shamelessly for free cake?" Kurt asked, taking a swig from his own cup.

"Honestly?" he asked, putting his fork down more gently this time, and folding his hands in front of him, "you mentioned you would be here, and I sort of wanted to hang out. I like hanging out with you, and we're...friends, right?," he said, shrugging. "I...that's not weird is it? Oh my god it's weird, isn't' it?"

"No, no, Blaine. It's...it's sweet," Kurt said, "I...I'm glad you came. I like hanging out with you, too," he admitted.

"Okay, good," he said, accepting the food that the waitress had suddenly brought to the table, eggs for Kurt, and pancakes for Blaine. The waitress was trying to catch his eye again, but both men were too busy staring at each other. Friends...Kurt could live with that...for now.

_Blaine _still_ insists that this was our first date. I maintain that we didn't do anything that counted as a date until a month later, but still he insists. And if he wants to buy me flowers on an extra day a year, who am I to complain?_


	10. Chapter 10

**Here we go...the next chapter! I hope you enjoy reading it, as I enjoyed writing it. Although my time to write is short, it's much cherished!**

"Wham!, The Spice Girls, and Roxy Music?" Kurt said, flipping through Blaine's CD collection. The two of them were sitting on the couch in Blaine's apartment, trying to pick something to listen to. "You really are gay," he said, giving Blaine a wry smile.

This was how Kurt liked Blaine best. He was wearing loose fitting jeans and his coziest sweatshirt. His hair was gel free and curls spilled out of his hood and onto his forehead. His back was leaning against the arm rest of the couch and his feet were tucked under where the two cushions met in the middle. His face was open and happy, and sporting a Saturday's worth of stubble. He was wearing his Rivers Cuomo glasses...even if Blaine insisted that they were really Buddy Holly glasses. To Kurt, he was beautiful.

"What are you saying," Blaine asked with a look of mock affronting on his face. "Are you suggesting that George Michael, the front man for Wham!, is _gay_? Surely you jest!" he said, placing his hand on his heart dramatically, and the two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Say what you want about the other two," Blaine said, finally calming down enough to start talking again, "but Brian Ferry is a musical genius."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I can't have this conversation again. How about for your birthday, I'll build you a time machine and you can go back in time to give him a high five."

"Don't tease me," Blaine said nudging Kurt's leg with his foot. "I'll get my hopes up."

Kurt grabbed on to one of Blaine's socked feet and tickled the underside until Blaine was once again lost in a fit of laughter and gasping for mercy, "that's what you get for poking me with your stinky feet," Kurt said, finally letter him go, and putting the CD binder on the coffee table so he could sit more comfortably. "Anyway, if you love those groups so much, how come you never sing them on the show?"

Blaine shrugged, "I've thought about it," he started, "but I don't think they really want to hear my ideas. I'm basically just a human juke box to them. Occasionally I get them to let me sing an indie song, but I think the Spice Girls would be too much. I doubt they want me to sing girl songs."

Kurt gave him a sympathetic look, but he found that it was best to just let Blaine talk in these situations. Opening up about his feelings doesn't come easy to him, and though he was getting more used to being able to talk to Kurt about it, it still took some finesse. "One day it will be different. It has to be," he finally said.

"I hope so," Blaine replied, leaning his head onto the back of the couch. "I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up the pretense. It's exhausting."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand and they exchanged a small smile. They were quiet for a while. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but they both knew the other needed a minute to process. Finally Kurt broke the silence, "you know if you ever do the Spice Girls, talk to Unique about it. She does a mean Baby Spice."

_After that afternoon at the diner, Blaine and I became fast friends. It was a little nuts. We went from acquaintances to practically inseparable in a matter of weeks. I think that if I was looking at it from the outside, I might have thought that it was strange, how quickly we became close. But, we both filled a void in each other's live's that was so desperately empty. I think it might be what people mean when they talk about love at first sight in real life. It wasn't the fairy tale feeling of immediately falling desperately in love, but the moment I stopped denying it to myself and allowed us to become friends, I knew that he would be special to me for the rest of my life. _

_Again, we weren't...dating, per say, but it sort of felt like that. We ended up at each other's apartments on weekends more often than not, and sometimes during the week we would order take-out and eat it in Blaine's dressing room after everyone had already gone home for the night. Things didn't start to _really_ turn into something, however, until the first time I had to dress Blaine for an event._

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Kurt was showing Blaine a few rough sketches of what he wanted Blaine to wear to his next red carpet. "I thought if you wear the green tie, you could compliment Rachel's dress without being two matchy-matchy," he explained, laying out a few fabric swatches next to his sketch pad. "It will go nicely with your eyes as well," he mused.

"It looks gorgeous," Blaine said honestly, "but you don't have to go through the trouble of making me a suit from scratch, Kurt," he added, patting his knee and reaching for the half eaten carton of Chinese food. Kurt couldn't help but think that they way he was slurping up his noodles was practically obscene.

"I don't mind," Kurt said with a shrug, "and it's certainly not a totally selfless act. It will mean a lot for me when the reporter asks you what you're wearing and you say it's a 'Kurt Hummel Original'."

Blaine made a noise of understanding before taking another bite of food, "I'll be proud to wear it," he said. "I...maybe one day you'll be standing next to me and we'll both be wearing Kurt Hummel Originals."

Kurt chuckled, picked up his own food, and leaned back onto the couch, "that's a very sweet offer, but I think I'm more of a behind the scenes kind of guy. I can't picture myself being one of those stylists who shadows people, fussing over every detail on the carpet," he said taking an ridiculously huge bite of his egg roll and chewing with his cheeks puffed up to hold everything in. Blaine was a bit of a fussbudget when it came to food, but he thought that Kurt's 'all in' approach was adorable.

"I...that's not what I meant," Blaine said, putting his carton back on the table and turning to face Kurt. If he was going to say this, he was going to say it right. "I meant that one day I want you to be there as like...my date," he explained, and if he wasn't so nervous for the other man's response, he might have laughed at the almost cartoonish way Kurt swallowed down the bite he had just taken.

"I...I think I'd like that," Kurt said quietly.

_And just like that, we had our first kiss...well second if you count the time I kissed his head when he first came out, but this was the first one that really counted. I was a bit horrified at the time that Blaine had no respect for the fact that I probably had onion breath, or that he couldn't let me put my egg roll down first, but it was worth it for the feeling of his warm dry lips pressed to mine. It was short and chaste, but I think we both knew that it was the beginning of something big, perhaps even bigger than the two of us. _

Blaine pulled away after a moment with a soft _smack,_ and the two men sat their for a minute just taking each other in, "you just kissed me," Kurt said dumbly.

"Yeah," Blaine said, his hands fidgeting on his lap.

"I'm still holding my egg roll," Kurt added, expression still wide-eyed.

Blaine didn't answer. Instead he took the food from Kurt's hands, placed it on the table, and swiftly leaned in for more kisses—a lot more kisses.

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Blaine blinked awake early the next morning to the light streaming in through his dressing room window. He smiled to himself when he remembered why he was pleasantly warm and slotted his fingers through the hands that were curled around his waist.

Blaine had kissed a few boys before, but each experience was clouded by a shroud of alcohol that contrasted drastically with the sharp clarity of the previous night—the feel of Kurt's lips on his; the way his hands felt on his waist, his cheek, and running through his hair; and the relief of finally getting things out in the open. They still had a lot to talk about, but the important thing was made clear: Kurt and Blaine were in no way, and probably had never been, just friends.

The whole thing had been surprisingly uncomplicated considering the complications that inevitably lay ahead for the two of them. They had made out on the couch, eventually becoming horizontal, until by mutual agreement they had slowed and settled into a tight cuddle. After that it only took minutes for the two of them to fall asleep, exhausted from a long day of work. But now, with the light of day upon them, a million thing were rushing through Blaine's mind. The top of the list was the currently extremely small list of people who knew the he was gay combined with his pressing need to scream from the roof tops that he was falling hard for Kurt Hummel...maybe he had already fell.

For better or for worse though, that list was about to get one person longer.


	11. Chapter 11

**As some of you saw in the A/N of my one-shot _Old _Friends (shameless plug, it's Deaf!Blaine), I ran into some pretty serious writers block trying to get through this chapter, which may account for the long wait and the relatively short length, but I think with this posting it will be officially over with. I'm ready to get on with the main drama/meat of this story. **

**Here we go...the next chapter! I hope you enjoy reading it, as I enjoyed writing it. Although my time to write is short, it's much cherished!**

_To those who may be wondering at this point, I don't necessarily _recommend_ the "trickle out" method that Blaine used in his coming out process. Maybe it's just my personality, but I much prefer the bandaid method. It might hurt more in the moment, but it's over quickly and the pain typically doesn't linger as much...even if you are leaving newly grown skin to brave the world on its own. _

_But Blaine, he didn't really have a choice (and as we all know, he did end up employing my favored method later on in his life)._

"Well...I can't pretend this doesn't explain some things," Blaine raised his eyebrows in response to the comment from his childhood friend. There had been an unspoken gag rule surrounding the first and only disastrous time that Blaine had tried being physically intimate with a female, and it seemed like Tina was about it break it.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably from his spot next to Kurt on the couch, and the other man reached out to squeeze his knee comfortingly. The cat was out of the bag, and there was no use in being discreet at this point...at least not at the expense of Blaine's comfort, "Tina that was..."

"...Ages ago. I know," she said finishing the sentence for Blaine. "I just couldn't think of anything else to say. This is a lot to take in," she paused and took a deep breath. "How long have you two been..." she gestured between them for lack of a better way to express what she was asking.

"Um...we've been growing as friends pretty much since Kurt started here, but we've only been doing...things for about twelve hours," Blaine said, giving Kurt a look that was practically unreadable, but Kurt gave his knee a reassuring squeeze anyway. "I know you probably have a lot of questions," Blaine said, mimicking those first words he had spoken to Kurt the night they had met in a gay bar.

"I guess...," she said hesitantly, "but really my main questios is...why didn't you tell me? Did you really think I would care?" she asked looking a little hurt.

Blaine sighed deeply. Anger and homophobia: those were the responses that he had prepared himself for his entire life, as he lived in fear of someone finding out his deepest secret. But, he had never counted on someone being hurt by it. "To be fair," he started. "I've barely ever told anyone," Blaine said quietly, but this didn't seem to help much.

"And what if I hadn't walked in, huh?" she asked, almost cutting Blaine off. "How long would it have taken then? How long was I supposed to go on watching you pursue girl after girl without even knowing that...without know that...I never even stood a chance in the first place," Tina finished quietly, looking down into her hands.

This finally made Blaine look up, "I...what?" he asked, not sure if he was hearing correctly.

_That certainly complicated things._

"And what about Rachel? Does she know that her teenage dream's really a FOD?" Tina practically shrieked. It took all of Kurt's control not to interrupt her to tell her to keep it down. The last thing Blaine needed was to be outed to someone else. "You can just keep _doing _this to women, Blaine. It isn't right," Tina added, probably trying to sweep her own confession under the rug.

"She knows," Blaine said quietly. He didn't know how Tina would react to the fact that someone he barely knew had found out before her, even if Blaine hadn't meant for it to happen.

_I think this is probably the first time that Blaine realized that his secret had the ability to hurt someone other than just himself. It had almost nothing to do with Tina's crush. It was just that, a crush—something that Tina would probably quickly get over now that she knew the facts of the matter. The hurt that Blaine's lie had caused her, however, was one that would linger for months to come, maybe even years. _

_That's the thing about secrets, they're necessary, and the world would probably devolve into chaos without them, but for the most part, they all have an expiration date._

Tina sighed. All of this was a bit overwhelming. On the one hand, Blaine was one of her childhood best friends, and someone she cared for deeply, and on the other hand he was _Blaine Anderson, _television sensation. She was hurt, but she couldn't pretend that the situation wasn't way bigger and more complicated than her personal feelings, "who else knows?" she finally asked, almost afraid to know that answer.

"Besides you, Kurt, and Rachel?" Blaine asked. "Well, just Wes and my Dad."

Tina couldn't hold back the surprised look that took over her face. She could have guessed that Wes had known. It would be basically impossible for Blaine to keep a secret like that from his best friend and room mate. His Dad on the other hand, was an entirely different story. "What does your Dad think about all of this? Does he know that you and Kurt are...what are you exactly?"

"He doesn't know about Kurt," Blaine replied, answering the easy question first. "And we're...well I think we're still figuring out exactly what we are," he continued turning to Kurt who gave him a reassuring nod. "I don't think my Dad treats me any differently because of it, but it's not something we ever talk about. I don't think he has anything _against_ gay people, per say, but he's a shrewd man, and he knows exactly what it would do to my career if it ever got out." Blaine felt Kurt deflate slightly next to him, but it wasn't the right time for him to ask him about it.

"Well, you should know," Tina said, swallowing her pride, "If you ever do decide to take that step, you have my support—you too, Kurt," Tina added with a slightly forced smile. "I'm...I'm still mad at you, and it hurts that I had to find out by mistake, but...I get it. I get that this is bigger than just me, and I get that it's easier for me to give support than for you to risk whether or not you'll get that support," she added, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle out of her skirt.

"We really appreciate that Tina," Kurt said, speaking for the first time. He could tell that Blaine was fairly drained already.

"I guess I should get to work before my boss realizes I'm late," Tina said with a smirk, and Kurt realized how late it was getting. "I'll see you in the work room, Kurt," and with that the two men were alone again.

"I guess I should go as well," Kurt said, turning to Blaine and running a hand down his arm. "Have a good day, and I promise," Kurt said, cupping Blaine's face with both of his hands and planting a chaste kiss on his lips, "we'll talk about what all of this means later."

_It hurt to hear Blaine talking about the possible issues that coming out could cause to his career. After the things that had transpired the night before, I was on cloud nine, but Blaine's words had me crashing back to earth. For me, allowing myself to fall for anyone was tough, but allowing myself to fall for _Blaine Anderson_ was proving way too easy, and that's what scared me the most._


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello lovely readers! As I may or may not have mentioned before I'm doing the Klaine Reverse Bang, and I'm REALLY excited about it. What I need now, is Beta readers. Would any of you be willing to jump in and help me? I have one already, but for a project of this size I'd really like two, possibly three. I'm about a quarter of the way through right now and I'm EXTREMELY excited. PM me or message me on tumblr (mspracticalamanda) if you're interested!**

**Disclaimer: I don't know a single thing about how TV contracts work, so you're just going to have to go with me on this one...**

_The funny thing about serious conversations that need to be had, is that they are much more difficult than kissing the boy you like. In fact, in a complete, in order list of things that I wanted to do in those next couple of weeks after Blaine and I kissed for the first time, making out would probably be at the very top. Having a serious conversation about what we were would have come in somewhere between trashing all of my moisturizers and eating a live insect._

_Don't get me wrong, we talked during that time. We talked about the clothes that Blaine would wear on upcoming episodes and at events. We talked about movies and books. And we talked about the awful outfit the barista was wearing when we went out to coffee, but the fact that we had been casually sucking face for the last three weeks never seemed to come up._

_Of course it was easier that way. No matter how uncomfortable Blaine was with the rest of the world, we were comfortable around each other. And comfort wasn't something that either of us was particularly willing to part with. To this day, I associate the smell of coffee and raspberries, that Blaine always seems the carry with him, with comfort. The question was, however, whether or not we were trading one form of comfort for another long lasting one._

"Mmph...you must have the world's most perfect lips," Blaine murmured between kisses. The two were enjoying a lazy afternoon in Kurt's apartment while Unique was out of town for a series of gigs. They were lying (still fully clothed) on Kurt's bed, and they had abandoned their viewing of _Some Like it Hot_ in favor of exploring each other's already well discovered mouths. "If I was a song writer, I'd write a whole album on your lips alone," he added.

Kurt's giggle forced him to break the kiss, "Oh my god," he choked out between laughs, "that's a line if I ever heard one.

"Well if I can't use a line on my boyfriend, then who can I use a line on?" Blaine said, eyes twinkling, and at least in that moment, blissfully unaware of how his last comment managed to shift the mood of the entire afternoon. "Kurt...?" he questioned when he saw the look of shock on the other man's face, "Kurt, what's wrong?" he asked, cupping his cheek and running a thumb along his cheekbone.

"You just called me your boyfriend," Kurt said bluntly...probably more bluntly than he really meant.

Blaine's face went pale at the realization of what he had let slip, "I guess we should probably have that talk we said we were going to have," Blaine said sheepishly, scooting up the bed so he was sitting up facing Kurt. When it became clear that Kurt was waiting for him to talk first, he took a deep breath and continued, "I've been referring to you as my boyfriend in my head ever since the day we first kissed," he confessed, steepling his hands in front of him and letting out a long breath.

"You didn't say anything," Kurt said, an unreadable expression on his face.

Blaine shrugged, "you said we were going to talk, and then when we didn't I just sort of assumed we were together," he said, trying to keep defensiveness from seeping into his voice. "We go for coffee all the time, we sing flirty duets when we have free time at work, we make out every chance we get...I mean, what else was I supposed to think?" he added.

Kurt sighed, "I know I'm the one who said we would talk, but there are two of us in this relationship, Blaine. You could have said something just as easily," he replied. "I mean, you haven't even taken me out on a proper date yet!" he said, exasperation clear, even though Kurt was trying to hide it.

Blaine was quiet for a few moments, obviously mulling something over in his head, "so...we _are _in a relationship?"

Kurt buried his face in his hands, somewhat in frustration, but mostly to hide the fact that he was laughing, "how about," he started, finally getting his laughter in check, "you take me out on a real date, and then we can talk about being boyfriends."

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_As uncomplicated as our "talk" had been, going out on a real date proved to be a great deal more difficult a notion. Even with the alarming rate that people were finding out about Blaine's sexuality (at least when compared to life before me), he was still very much in the closet, and not even the glass one that many actors have found themselves in over the years._

_We had been seen together before of course. We'd even been "spotted" in the traditional paparazzi sense, but the headline was always something about Blaine commiserating with his stylist, not even a hint of anything more (probably aided by the fact that Rachel was a frequent presence during these sightings)_

_It wasn't even that we couldn't go out in public with each other if we wanted to act like a couple. It was more the intense reminder the the conundrum that we were in—the conundrum we would stay in unless Blaine came out of the closet or we stopped being a "we" all together. Neither of those options seemed all that appealing at the time, but I was acutely aware—we were both acutely aware—that at some point, something had to give._

"I know it's not really what you had in mind when you asked for a real date, but I...I hope you like it anyway," Blaine said opening the door to his apartment and allowing Kurt to step inside. Blaine had told Kurt to get ready and then come over at 8 PM for a surprise. He looked gorgeous, and although that was nothing new, he still managed to take Blaine's breath away. "Come in. Let me take your coat," Blaine said slipping Kurt's jacket off of his shoulders and leading him into the apartment with a hand on his lower back.

It was simple, classic really. Blaine had cooked and plated the one meal he had managed to perfect for his wheel house that was worthy of a date night (mushroom risotto), lit candles and dimmed the lights, and convinced Wes to make himself scarce. "Wow," Kurt said, unsure what else to say. Up until that moment Kurt thought that his perfect date would involve being whisked away to some fancy, romantic restaurant, and then kissed under the stars in central park. His close minded Ohio upbringing had taught him to fantasize about a day when he could walk through the streets holding hands with a man and no one would bat an eyelash. With one gesture Blaine had changed all of that. Romance was the quiet intimacy of your lover's apartment. Romance was slaving away on a hot stove for just one perfect meal. Romance was Blaine Anderson. "This...this looks amazing," he said.

Blaine blushed and didn't say anything in return. He just continued to lead Kurt into the kitchen, pulled out his chair for him, and set out to make sure that by the end of the evening, Kurt would be his boyfriend.

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"Oh my god, where did you get this cheesecake from?" Kurt said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his belly from the enormous meal he had just enjoyed. The wine and conversation had flown freely. His hand was clasped tightly in Blaine's the entire time. The meal had been delicious, and dessert had been _perfection_. Kurt had never bee so glad he had taken the time to extoll the many virtues of cheesecake in the presence of Blaine.

"It was good old Juniors, love," Blaine said squeezing his hand. "If I had known that a good New York cheesecake was all I needed to win you over then I wouldn't have bothered remaking that risotto three times," he said with a chuckle, "but we're not done yet. There's just one more thing."

Kurt groaned, but there was a smile on his lips, "you're going to make me fat, Anderson," he said. "Can't we save it for breakfast tomorrow? I don't plan on leaving tonight," he said with a wink that made Blaine blush.

"I promise, it's not food," he said, pulling Kurt up from his chair and leading him into the living room. "I have something I need to tell you."

The two men sat down next to each other on the couch and Blaine took both of Kurt's hands in his. Kurt couldn't help but be reminded of that first time they had sat on a couch together when Blaine had first confessed to being gay. "Three months," Blaine blurted out without any pretense.

Kurt looked at him curiously, "I'm sorry: what?" he asked.

"Three months," he said again. "In three months we'll have the perfect storm. My three season contract with _Dalton_ will be over, I'll be finished with my advertising contract with Pepsi, and I'll be hitting the talk show circuit to promote the new Warblers album we're putting out. It's all going to culminate with an interview on Oprah, and I'm going to come out."

**Yikes! Shits gonna go down. Also, don't forget let me know if you're interested in being a Beta!**

**I know that in this story right now we're having a bit of a reverse cannon. We are privy to Kurt's every thought, but we're not hearing much from Blaine. I promise to remedy that in the next chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey everyone, I do want to apologize slightly for how slowly the chapters are coming for this piece. It partially is to do with how little time I have, but honestly, I'm just struggling with creating quality updates for this particular verse. I would rather make you wait than put up something sub par. It might also be that I'm actually vibrating with excitement over my Klaine Reverse Bang piece. I CAN'T WAIT for all of you to read it. I hope you're all having a wonderful start to summer. I know I'm having a phenomenal time taking advantage of all the wonderful concerts that New York City has to offer this time of year (Guns n' Hoses!, Darren Criss!, Ben Folds Five!). Please mind the Beta request at the end of the chapter! **

_I don't think that I could accurately explain to you how I felt directly after Blaine told me that he was planning to come out in just three short months. It felt so sudden, but then again like it was a long time coming. It helped that we spent the rest of the night talking about it. Blaine explained that while it may have seen sudden to me, he had been slowly building up to it for his whole life practically. Blaine was and is a naturally open person, and his psyche didn't take kindly to long term secret keeping._

"I just...I just want you to be sure you're doing this for the right reasons. I'm totally on your side, Blaine, but I..." Kurt hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not he should finish the thought. "I just don't want you to end up resenting me," he finally admitted.

Blaine looked taken aback by the suggestions, "resenting you?" he asked incredulously. "How could I resent you? It's the rest of the world I should be nervous about, not you."

"I understand that, but no matter what you say, I think you and I both know that your sudden decision has at least _something_ to do with our relationship," Kurt explained. "If things go really badly, Blaine...I don't want to lose you," Kurt said. He had started out strong, but he was slowly beginning to break down and get panicky.

"Kurt," Blaine said gently, taking the other man's hands in his. "I understand how you feel, and you're right. Being with you is the push that I needed to come to this decision, but I can't help but think...hope really...that even without you, I wouldn't be doing this some time in the near future," Blaine said, squeezing Kurt's hands. "I'm...I'm tired, Kurt. I can't be someone I'm not for much longer. Please say you'll be by my side when the proverbial shit hits the fan?" Blaine asked, giving Kurt a pleading look.

"Oh, Blaine, of course! I wouldn't be anywhere else," Kurt responded quickly, shifting from concern for himself to concern for Blaine as soon as he saw the uncertainty in the other man's eyes. "If you say you're ready, then there's nothing for me to do than to believe you. We're in this together."

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_As willing as I was to provide as much support as possible for Blaine, there was no way that the two of us could do it on our own. Blaine was about to do something unprecedented and he would need as many people in his corner as possible. _

His father's mouth pressed together in a thin line, "so you're just going to throw it away—everything we've worked for?" he asked with a hard look on his face. "Did you ever consider that more people than just you will be affected by this?"

Blaine at least had the good sense to look remorseful, "I...I know, Dad. I get it, but frankly...that's part of the reason that I _have_ to do this. It isn't just about me anymore," Blaine said quietly, looking down at his folded hands.

The two men were in a coffee shop, presumably having a light lunch, but neither of them had even touched their drinks or their sandwiches. "What's his name?" his father said, putting his face in his hands and rubbing exhaustedly.

"Kurt," he replied simply. He considered pushing back, delaying the inevitable, but his father deserved that much at least. Blaine wasn't stupid. He knew that this could blow up in his face, and he knew that he would be taking his father down with him. Anderson's stuck together—no matter what. "He um...he works on the show."

"I know who he is, Blaine," his father said, and to Blaine's relief he could notice a slight tease in his voice. "I...I know this isn't something we...talk about, Blaine, but you have to know I love you no matter what, and you're an adult. If you think it's time, then it's time."

Blaine looked back up at his father in shock, "Dad?" he asked incredulously, "Do you...do you really mean that? I mean all this time—."

"All this time, I wanted you to be happy Blaine," his father cut him off. "That's all I've ever wanted. When you were younger you wanted to perform. That made you happy, and unfortunately in this world it means making some sacrifices, but you were just a kid. It didn't matter then. I see you now, Blaine, and you're not happy. Don't think I can't tell," Blaine father scrubbed his face one more time. "Just don't...don't do anything rash. This is a huge thing you'd be doing, coming out to the public. Make sure you're really ready for what could happen."

Blaine nodded, "I think...I think that no matter how it turns out, that it's time for me to take a breather from the limelight," Blaine said. "I'm still young and I was thinking that maybe...maybe I could go to college?" he said, question in his voice. He may have been an adult, but he still looked to his father for approval.

"I think that's a great idea, Blaine," his Dad replied. "Now let's eat. Break is almost over and you've barely touched your sandwich," he said, silently congratulating himself for successfully steering the topic back to neutral territory. One serious conversation per meal was enough.

**Hello lovely readers! As I mentioned before I'm doing the Klaine Reverse Bang, and I'm REALLY excited about it. What I need now, is Beta readers. Would any of you be willing to jump in and help me? I have one already, but for a project of this size I'd really like two, possibly three. I'm about a quarter of the way through right now and I'm EXTREMELY excited. PM me or message me on tumblr (mspracticalamanda) if you're interested!**


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